


How to get what you want (even if you don't know what it is)

by Craftswoman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Drunk Harry Potter, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay Bar, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Male Character, Hogwarts, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Malfoy Manor, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oral Sex, POV Harry, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pregnancy, Pregnant Harry Potter, Rimming, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Slow Burn, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-07-12 18:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftswoman/pseuds/Craftswoman
Summary: "Let me get this clear, shall we? You want me to bugger you in the arse, so you can get pregnant with my superior semen?"Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his face with both hands. "I knew this was a stupid idea. The most stupid of all stupid ideas."But Harry wanted a different life, a family, a child, and when his Healer told him it was possible for him to carry a child himself, being a wizard, the thought kind of stuck. Even if he wasn't compleatly truthful about his motives. Not to Malfoy and certainly not to himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Male-preg story. If you don't like that, don't read it. I, myself, happens to be a sucker for it.  
> I also don't have a beta, if you don't count my pug Doris, who's been at my side through all this writing, contributing with clever snoring, as pugs do. I guess a thanks to her is appropriate.  
> English is not my first language, so please, excuse all grammatic mistakes that you find, and if you like, tell me so I can correct them.  
> Comments and kudos, people, it's what I live for!

**Monday August 6, 2007**

_Malfoy,I know it's been ages since we last met, but I have something important to ask you. Could you, please, meet me and talk. There's a Muggle café at the South entrance of Kings Cross Station. I'll be there at four tomorrow. Harry Potter_

Harry read it through one last time and resisted the urge to crumble it like the rest of the parchments on the floor. Instead he rolled it up and fastened it on the owl's leg before he changed his mind. The tawny owl hooted irritated at him and ruffled his feathers before he flew away.

The reply that came an hour later was short.

_Can't, for the world, see the point, but all right. DM_

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd held and sunk down on the chair at the kitchen table.

**Tuesday May 22, 2007**

"When you close your eyes and picture yourself in the future, what do you see? Let yourself drift and tell me the first things that comes to mind." Healer Hestia Donner pushed her pink glasses up on her nose with a brightly varnished fingernail and peered down on her patient laying sprawled out on the couch, his unruly black hair fanning out like a dark halo.

"A house in the country, a garden, not really like the Burrow, but something similar. Laughter, children's laughter. Maybe a dog."

"And why, Mr Potter, does that feel so unobtainable to you? It's not an unusual goal in life to have a family, you know."

Harry turned his head and opened his eyes. As always she was struck by their intensive green. "Please, call me Harry," he told the greying witch, as he had done several times before. This wasn't their first meeting, after all. After years of struggling with , what he now knew was PTSD, he had finally given in to Hermione's persuasions and started seeing a Mind-Healer, and Healer Donner had helped him to deal with the loss of his parents, his abused childhood, the trauma of Voldemort and his guilt of surviving while so many had died. Now they focused on the future and that seemed to be trickier than he first thought.

"It just doesn't seem plausable, that's all." He sighed and disposed of his glasses with one hand so he could rub his eyes with the other. "I've already told you of my dating disasters. I can't connect with a Muggle girl. My history is too complex to understand for someone who's not in our world, and all witches I meet are far too obsessed with the thought of dating the Saviour, the Boy-Who-Lived. I can't do it anymore." He put an arm over his eyes to cover his face.

"What about that other thing you mentioned a few months ago, care to exploit that?"

"No, that was just a stupid notion I had at the time. I don't want to talk about it again, it's not who I am."

"All right, if you say so." She folded her notepad and put down her quill with a frown. This patient of hers was an enigma; he opened up easily on a lot of things and stubbornly clammed up on so many others. "You know," she started tentatively, "I can't say for sure, but it might be a way for you to move on. You could at least explore the posibilities, think about it. If you like, I can make an appointment for you with an Obstetrician Healer. One of the best happens to be a friend of mine."

Harry sat up abruptly and his glasses fell to the floor. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you are a wizard, a powereful one, and that you could carry a baby yourself. You need a sperm-doner, of course, but essentially, you could start a family on your own, if that's what you want."

**Tuesday August 7, 2007**

Twenty minutes past four, Draco Malfoy strode inside the small coffee-shop, black robes billowing behind him as he rounded a corner. He looked astonishing and a little bit intimidating. Harry had to remind himself that he was a fully trained Auror, with years of experience, even if he still wasn't either tall or muscular. What he lacked in body he tried to compensate with fearlessness and resolution, but that had no effect on the churning in his stomach right now.

He put his coffee-cup down and rose to greet him. He wiped a nervously sweaty hand on his jeans-front before he produced it to shake with a sheepish grin. "Hello, Malfoy."

The blond man looked at Harry's outstretched hand and sat down with a shrug. "You look positively down and out, Potter." Malfoy wrinkled his nose. "What do you want? Money?"

Harry looked down on his well-worn favourite hoodie. He could have made an effort today, he supposed. And shaved.

"No, no, nothing like that."

Malfoy shrugged. "People ask me for money all the time, you'd be surprised," he drawled. "They might despise me and everything my name stands for, but when it comes to money..."

"What are you having? Tea or coffee?" Harry indicated his head towards the counter.

"Nothing," Malfoy scowled. "Now, what was it you wanted? I'm very busy, you know."

Harry sat and tried to collect his thought and feelings. This wasn't going to be easy and Malfoy didn't exactly help.

"Uhm," he started, stalling a bit, "how are you these days?"

"Oh, are we making small-talk, now? What is your next question then? About the weather?" Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Harry pulled his hands through his hair, making it even more tangled. "Look, what I'm about to ask... it's a bit awkward. No, I'll rephrase that." He straightened up and looked Malfoy directly in the eyes. "It's beyond awkward. It's downright embarrassing. So, could you, please, relax a little, give me a break and have a sodding cup of coffee." The tone in his voice went firm, but it seemed to have effect.

Malfou leaned back in his seat. "All right, then. Black, no sugar."

Harry could feel Malfoy's gaze following him as he went to the counter and returned with two cups, one for Malfoy and a refill for himself. His hands trembled as he put them down on the small table. Malfoy took a sip from his cup with his slate-grey eyes locked on Harry. There was a tiny glimpse of curiosity in them. "Well, can you now tell me what you want from me?"

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and took a deep breath. "The thing is... I've not been doing well lately. My Mind-Healer tells me I work too much." He gave a little strained laugh. "Practically everybody I know tells me I work too much, even before Ginny left me." Malfoy's perfectly groomed eyebrows flew up to his hairline. "She told me I should date Head-Auror Robards instead, since I seemed to prefer his company over hers." He liked to tell it as a joke, which is wasn't at the time, but it made it hurt less.

"Anyway," he wiped his eyes under the spectacles, "my Healer asked me to evaluate what I find important in life, what I _want,_ and I realized what I really want is a family, children anyway, and dating someone… Let's just say that finding the right witch has been difficult. Nobody wants _me,_ they only want to be seen with the bloody Saviour and have their picture in the Daily Prophet."

Malfoy didn't even try to hide the smirk behind his coffee-cup. Harry winced and fidgeted with his napkin, tearing it into very small pieces.

"My Mind-Healer asked me if I ever had considered carrying a child myself and I was totally taken by surprise. I didn't even know it was possible."

"You're a wizard, Potter," Malfoy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course, it's possible. If you're a decendent of pure wizarding bloodlines, that is. Which you're not, I'm afraid."

"I went to the Healer at St Mungo's who's an expert on magical pregnancies, and he told me that my magical core was probably strong enough to go through with it." Harry felt his ears and neck flush pink. "That my magic combined with my father's blood-status should make it possible."

"Naturally," Malfoy sneered. "How silly of me. You're the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Do-Anything, aren't you?"

Harry glared at him. "I thought we were adults and beyond that sort of childish jabbing," he said.

Malfoy looked away.

Harry continued, reluctantly at this point. "Healer Smith told me that for this to work, there are a few other things that needs to be fulfilled, though. The other father must be someone I have a connection to. Not necessary a romantic one, thank God, but a close friend, someone I'm tied to, bonded with... maybe someone I have a life-debt to..." Harry paused. "And it's absolutely essential that he's a pureblood wizard, so I thought I'd ask you."

There was a dead silence, the only thing sounding was the clatter of the other customers. Harry felt his tongue stick to his dry palate. "I couldn't ask Ron, I just couldn't, or any of his brothers, for that matter. Neville was willing to help, but as he and Hannah, well, she wasn't okay with it." Harry was babbling. Malfoy only sat in silence, scrutinizing him along his pointy nose.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but it doesn't seem to be that many purebloods in my circle of friends."

"You mean to say; I wasn't even your first choice?" Malfoy seemed to straighten up. "Let me get this clear, shall we? You want me to bugger you in your arse, so that you can get pregnant with my superior semen?"

"That pretty much sums it up, yeah." Harry bit his lip.

"And you expect me to get an erection looking at your hairy arse?" Contempt flooded from his mouth as he glared.

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his face with both hands. "I knew this was a stupid idea. The most stupid of all stupid ideas," he muttered to himself.

"I dare say," Malfoy added haughtily.

"Look, Malfoy," Harry said, suddenly angry. "If you think this is some hilarious joke, go ahead, laugh. My life is _shit_ as it is, and I hoped, foolishly as it was, that you've actually had grown up, and since we both have saved each other's lives on more than one occation, that you would consider to help me with this, at least talk about it properly, but boy, was I wrong. You still are, and will always be, a perfect _prat,_ Malfoy. I'm sorry I took up so much of your precious time in your perfectly prat life."

Harry shoved his chair back and stormed out of the café, and in a second, he Disapparated without caring how many Muggles that saw him.

**Thursday June 7, 2007**

"So, your Obstetrician says you need a pureblood wizard, since you're half-blood. Well, there's a whole bunch of us Weasleys. Who's your pick?"

"None of you, Ron. I can't have a baby with one of you. You're family in a totally different way. It wouldn't feel right, not for me or you, and most of all, it wouldn't be fair to Ginny. That's still a bit raw, you know that."

"Yeah, I get that, but we have a lot of friends I'm sure will do it. Neville's from one of the oldest families."

"I've asked him already and he was glad to help, but," Harry blushed a little, "since he and Hannah are trying to get pregnant on their own, it turned out to be a bit awkward, to say the least. In the end he had to say no, for her sake."

"Well, then," Hermione started counting. "Dean's Muggleborn and Seamus is half-blood." She looked at Ron.

"Zacharias Smith is pureblood," Ron gave Harry a sideways glance.

"No fucking way," Harry exclaimed. "I couldn't stand him in school, and he's still an arsehole, as I see it."

"Justin, Terry, Michael and Anthony," Ron said, "all very nice guys, but half-bloods or Muggle-decendants, all of them. Ernie MacMillan's pureblood, but last I heard, he was somewhere in America." He sighed and scratched his red hair. "You can't think of anyone you've made friends with in the Auror-corps, I suppose?"

Harry shook his head.

Hermione leaned back in her seat on the sofa and furrowed her brow. "That leaves us with the obvious conclution, doesn't it?"

The two men stared at her, dumbfounded.

"The purest of them all, who's magic is deep and strong and the one who owes you his life. Don't tell me you haven't thought of him, Harry?"

**Wednesday August 8, 2007**

There was an owl the next morning.

_Did you seriously believe, Potter,that you could make me an offer like that without me taking a piss? If you really want to discuss this we ought to meet again. Same place tomorrow? Besides, you left me to pay for the coffee. DM_

Harry held the parchment in his hand for a little while before he crumbled it up into a tight ball and threw it very hard into the living room wall. But something about that note stuck with him all through the day. In the afternoon he Floo-ed home and _Accio_ -ed the paper ball and read it once more.

**Thursday August 9, 2007**

When Harry approached the café, Malfoy was already sitting there with two cups of coffee under a discreet heating charm and a giant piece of apple-pie in front of him. He drummed his fingers nervously on the table and searched the entrance repeatedly until he spotted Harry.

"I thought we could share. You're still too bloody scrawny, Potter."

Harry sat and studied him silently. He looked different today, in Muggle clothes, a dark blue jumper and grey slacks. His shoulder-long hair that yesterday had been in a very strict ponytail, slicked from his face, was now in a messy bun with strands of pale blond hair hanging at the sides, and his face was sort of un-masked.

"Have you any idea how rare and dangerous a male pregnancy is?" he asked. "Did your Healer tell you that you have to live without magic until the baby is born?"

"Yes, I know." Harry took a spoonful of pie. "The baby will need all my magic during that time."

"But do you realize that you won't be able to use any magic at all, not even a simple _Lumos_?"

Harry quirked a shoulder. "I was raised Muggle, remember. I think I can manage."

"You won't be able to work from the moment the baby is concieved. And being such a public figure as you are, you'll have no protection."

"Worried about me, are you?" Harry smirked.

"I'm only curious why you persist in such a drastic solution." Malfoy rolled his eyes and looked away.

Harry chewed on his lower lip. "When I learned that it was possible, the thought kind of stuck. I really want this, if I can. Are you willing to help me after all?"

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "Maybe. I have a couple of demands, though."

Harry felt his heart flutter. "All right."

"First, this must not be a secret. Having a child with the famous Harry Potter will be very beneficiary to the Malfoy name and reputation, and that's an opportunety far too good to pass by." He held up his hands to stop Harry from protesting. "I know, this is what everybody wants from you, to be a part of your fame and glory, but with me, at least you have no false pretence of love and adoration." He stroked his hair away from his face and sighed. "And Merlin knows I could do with a little good-will publicity."

Harry swallowed loudly. To let the world know he was having a baby with Draco Malfoy wasn't how he'd thought it would be, but he could understand Malfoy's point of view. The Wizarding World hadn't exactly been forgiving towards him after he was cleared in the trials after the war. He only got six months house-arrest together with his mother. His father, on the other hand, still served a lifetime sentence at Azkaban.

Malfoy drank some coffee and his grey eyes pierced Harry's. "If you think it'll only take one good fuck to get you up the duff, then think again, Potter. Even with the fertility potion it's extremely difficult for wizards to get pregnant, so many variables have to click."

Harry nodded. He knew this too; his Healer had been very clear on this point.

"So, this is what I suggest," Malfoy continued. "I want to be seen with you in public, once a week ought to do it, at some restaurant or society function, pretending to date. I say Wednesdays for that and Fridays for fucking. That'll leave us both the weekends off for other activities."

Harry stared at him. "You want to date me?"

Malfoy snorted. "Fake-date, Potter. I don't actually want to date you, even if you are the bloody Saviour of the Wizarding World."

"What about… Erm, your wife… or fiancée?"

"My wife?" Malfoy looked baffled.

"I saw your engagement-ad in the Prophet a few years back."

"No." Malfoy looked away. "We broke it off."

"So," Harry said, "you're not married and you don't have any children?"

"No, and that leads to my other demand. When the child is born, he will have my name. It can be Malfoy-Potter if you prefer, but he will have my name. He will know me as his other father, no matter that I won't participate in his daily upbringing. He'll be my first-born and therefor he's intitled to be my heir, whether he's born in wedlock or not."

"What makes you so sure it will be a boy?" Harry asked, taken a little aback.

Malfoy shrugged a shoulder. "All Malfoy first-borns are male; we're forever spelled that way."

When Harry reurned to his flat later that day, the first thing that caught his eyes was a small box on the kitchen counter that Healer Smith had provided him with earlier this month. It contained a vial of fertility potion, various leaflets on How-to-do-it and the insemination syringe.

Without hesitation, and above all, without any closer examination of his actions, Harry scooped up the potion flask and put the rest of the contents in the far back of the top drawer.

In a haze, he had willingly agreed to all of Malfoy's demands, even the one about the name. He couldn't really answer why.

**Thursday May 31, 2007**

"You do understand, Mr Potter, that you will not be able to use your magic during the pregnancy. As soon as there been conception, and that is bound to happen at once due to the potion you'll be taking, the womb must be created, and that is depending on the strenth of your magic alone. We can only hope that it is strong enough, but if it isn't, there's nothing we can do about it. This is a chance we're taking, but the prospects are very good, considering your magical status."

Healer Smith looked up from his desk and met Harry's eyes. "Actually, I have never in all my years as a Healer met anyone with a magical core a strong as yours, Mr Potter, so hopefully you are about to be a father in only a couple of weeks." He smiled and bared a crooked line of yellowy teeth. Harry shifted uncomfortable on the treatment couch and forced a smile back.

"But the other father has to be a pureblood wizard?" Harry felt he had to clarify this.

The smile died on the Healer's lips. "Absolutley. We cannot afford to take any chances there. The blood status of the donor is of the utmost importance, as is your relation with the man. In the rare cases of wizard-pregnacies there can never be any random anonymous donor, it just doesn't work that way. Don't ask me why," he put his hands defensively in the air, "research hasn't come that far yet. You must know the donor, and as soon as you've inseminated yourself with his sperm, you'll concieve, and at that moment your magic is drawn to the embryo, and this is the tricky part, for the creation of the temporary womb. The child will later have to be delivered with a caesarean, of course, but during the pregnancy your body will react as normal as any woman carrying a child; nausea, food cravings, the risk for high blood-pressure and a lot of other things that we will deal with as they come. You will know the very moment a womb has been successfully created, since your magic will be unobtainable for you from that time."

He paused and took a brief look at the stack of papers on his desk. "I can see here that you work as an Auror, Mr Potter."

"Yes," Harry said and resisted an eyeroll. As if the man didn't know that without checking his notes.

"It will be impossible for you to work in the field while you're pregnant, of course." Healer Smith furrowed his brow in what he apparently thought was a sympathetic look.

"I've already spoken to my superior officer and requested desk duty from the first signs of pregnancy." Harry winced a little when he thought about the piles of paperwork that would be his from now on. Ron had cheered with joy, along with the other Auror-partners, at the prospect of not having to do them for a long time. But it would be worth it, everything would be worth this; a baby. A child of his own, a new start, a different life.

"Well, then," Healer Smith beamed. "I can only wish you the best of luck, Mr Potter, and that the next time I'll see you, it will be a very happy occation, indeed."

**Wednesday August 22, 2007**

"Thank Gods, you've managed to clean up a bit, Potter." Malfoy leaned closer to him and pretended to kiss his cheek in some posh continental mannerism.

Harry pulled a little at his purple robe sleeve. "I hate formal dressing," he muttered.

"Well, it's required here and think how much better it makes you look at my side in the papers," Malfoy smeared. He had decided that they would meet at one of the most popular restaurants just off Diagon Alley for their first official date.

"I've made reservations for two in the name of Malfoy."

The waiter hardly glanced at the charmed parchment but glowered at Malfoy as he was something foul that'd crept up from the gutter. "It seems to be some mistake, we have no reservation under that name, sir."

Harry emerged from the shadows of the cloak-room. "Perhaps it's under my name instead. Harry Potter?"

The waiter blushed. "Of course. This way, gentlemen."

Malfoy bared his teeth towards the man in something that could be excused as a smile, but in every sense of the word, wasn't.

They were directed to a table and Harry could thankfully hide behind the leather-bound menu, as they sat down. He wasn't used to pull 'the famous card' and this whole situation was unsettling. His hands were sweaty and his stomach felt like he had swallowed a Hippogriff.

When they had ordered and the wine had been served, the silence stretched like the ocean between them. Harry cleared his throat.

"Erm, hmm… What do you like us to talk about, Malfoy?"

"I don't _like_ to talk about anything, really," Malfoy remarked loftily, "but I would very much like you to try to _look_ like you want to be here. It's supposed to be a date, not a detention hour."

He grabbed Harry's hand on top of the table and brought it up to his face. "You're supposed to be madly infatuated with me, remember," he smirked, and his lips ghosted over Harry's knuckles. Harry's face flushed bright red and he withdrew his hand as if it'd been burnt.

"Maybe I'm not as used to dating blokes as you seem to." He choked a little on the words.

"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" Malfoy leaned back with a vicious grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He looked amazingly good and he knew it. "Believe me when I say I find no joy in partisipating in this charade, Potter, but I can assure you that I will make the most of it for my own benefit."

"So, that's all this is to you then? A way to get advantages?"

"Why not? You saw how I was treated back there." Malfoy turned dark. "Everyone in the Wizarding World seems to have taken upon themselves to make sure that I never forget what I am and what I've done, and that they all think I got away too easily. No, I leave the acts of altruism to 'Our Saviour'. Although, this thing might possibly be the first selfish thing you've ever done, Potter. Imagine that."

Harry gave him a murky look. "It's nothing wrong with having something for oneself."

"Exactly my point. Good there, Scarhead."

When their meal came, they ate in silence.

**Thursday August 23, 2007**

"What in Merlin's buggering pants is the meaning of this?" Ron barged in and flung today's issue of the Daily Prophet on Harry's desk. It was open on the ceenterfold and a very vivid picture of himself and Malfoy lapsed over and over again, Malfoy kissing his hand and flirting, and even trhough it was a black and white photo, you could clearly see Harry blushing. He hadn't known there were reporters there, but Malfoy probably did.

"It's not what it looks like, it's only pretend. For the papers."

"Well, it certainly looks like you're enjoying it. What were you thinking, Harry?"

"You know I'm not prejudice against homosexuals, Ron."

"Yeah, but posing as one?"

"It was his idea, and we will possibly have a baby together. People will assume anyway." Harry shrugged.

"And you're okay with that? This idea about Malfoy was the worst idea Hermione ever had. I can't believe you're actually going through with it. What possessed you to give in to him? Why him, Harry?"

"He's got good bone-structure, I guess." Harry sheepishly rubbed his neck.

"Bone-structure?" Ron gaped at him. "He's a _Death Eater,_ God damn it. We were at _war_ against him."

"The war's over, Ron. We must all move on. It was a long time ago."

Ron's face grew dark. "Not long ago enough for most of us to forget, not long ago enough for _me_ to forget. And I thought it was the same for you, Harry, but apparently you're too blinded by his fabulous _bone-structure._ "

He paced the office floor and continued. "What will happen when you _do_ meet a girl you want to marry? How do you think she'll feel when you have Malfoy's off-spring strutting about the house?"

"It'll be my child, not his."

He stopped at Harry's desk and put his clenched knuckles down in front of Harry and met his gaze. He was quite impressive in his Auror-uniform, with his stature. "You could've had any of us, you know that. I mean, Charlie's not likely to have any of his own. I bet he would love to father a child with you."

"Ron, please, I've already told you why."

Ron went over to look out of the magically charmed window. There was a beautiful spring day on display there. "I think Ginny would like you to come back."

"Ron, don't."

"You know she hasn't dated anyone serious since you broke up."

Harry shook his head. "It won't happen. I'm sorry." There was too much buried there, too much water under that bridge. He could never go back.

Ron sighed. "I just can't believe you're going through with this, Harry. Are you sure you want to, with Malfoy?"

"No, I'm not sure. Not about him, not about anything, really, and I would feel much more confident if I got through one meeting with him without us getting at each other's throats. He still is totally insufferable. But I'm absolutley sure about having this baby, and I think he's honest about wanting this as much as I am. At least, I want to give it a try." Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "Are you happy with being an Auror, Ron? Is it what you thought it would be like when we talked about it all those years ago?"

"I suppose so. I go home at night thinking I did my best, that we managed to put yet another Dark wizard behind bars and I feel content with that."

"But it never ends, does it? It will never be enough, there will always be one more, and one more, and your best is never enough. You always have to do better."

"Is this how you feel? You can quit, you know."

"No, I can't. Not without a very good reason. There would be an out-roar of indignation if I did, you know that as well as I do. But having a baby, that would be a totally different matter, even if it is with Malfoy. If he's willing to help me with this, then I think I can handle being seen with him a couple of times to improve his reputation. The war _was_ a long time ago, Ron, and he was cleared of all charges, being underage. He was a child then, same as us. Lucius is in Azkaban where he belongs, and will no doubt never see daylight again, and what I've heard, his mother's not well. It's not fair how he's been treated over the years."

"Whatever you say, Harry." He exhaled. "I only hope you're not doing something you'll regret later, that's all. Because, once the baby's born, there's no way to back out."

"Trust me on this, mate," Harry affirmed. "I know what I'm doing."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit smut in this chapter, just so you know.

**Friday August 24, 2007**

"I could use a drink," Harry said. "Would you like one?" He held out the bottle of Fire-whiskey he offered to Malfoy, who shrugged. "Why not?"

Harry's hands shook as he poured the smoking liquid in two tumblers. He was nervous and not at all as confident he'd let Ron to believe yesterday. Malfoy had only minutes ago entered Harry's flat and was now on Harry's sofa with his long legs stretched out before him.

Harry gulped down the whiskey in one go and choked as it burnt his throat. He wasn't used to drink in that way, he secretly preferred the Butterbeer of his youth. Malfoy snickered into his own tumbler.

"Well," Harry coughed and cleared his throat. "Let's get on with it, then."

"Subtle, Potter," Malfoy smirked. "Don't you think this would actually work better if I was… well, hard?"

Harry swallowed loudly. What was he up to here? Was he seriously thinking about having sex with this man? How did he put himself in this position? But it was for the sake of a baby, a baby he wanted so much. It dawned on him that he hadn't been exactly truthful towards Malfoy about how this could also work, and he pictured what was hidden in his kitchen drawer and blushed. But Malfoy was right, an erection was required either way.

"We could… erm… I have a DVD," he started, avoiding looking at Malfoy at all cost. "We could watch porn, if you like?"

"And that is...?"

"Moving pictures of people having… sex. It's Muggle." He dared a glance at the blond beside him.

"And that's supposed to be rousing? Muggles having sex?" The astonished contempt displayed on his face was almost comical.

Harry shrugged.

"By all means, then, Potter."

Harry watched the two blond women, with their big boobs bouncing, lick and suck the enormous, almost purple dick, moaning and gasping, their bright red lipstick perfectly in place. He usually never got this far, he'd never really watched it before. The sound alone used to be enough to get him off, but Malfoy's presence had a rather intimidating affect.

"Is this working for you?" he suddenly heard Malfoy drawl beside him. Harry turned his head in Malfoy's direction, but before he could react, Malfoy put his hand over Harry's crotch and gave it a squeeze. "No, I thought so."

He rubbed his thumb over the outline of Harry's prick through the coarse fabric of his jeans and it immediately twitched by the attention. "Ah, that's much better."

Harry felt a mild panic roaring up. It was because it's been so long since someone else had touched him, yeah, that must be it. He swallowed and tried to tame his breathing.

Malfoy kept grinding his hand cupped over Harry's groin. "Maybe," he said, his voice a notch darker than it usually was, "we should start easy and just get rid of all the embarrassment, shall we?"

He got up and in one swift move he went down on his knees in front of Harry, pushing Harry's legs wider apart. Harry made a sound, high-pitched and needy, in the back of his throat. His hands trembled as they moved of their own accord and opened the button and pulled down the zipper of his jeans. Harry's cock was now fully erect and strained at the containments of his underpants. Malfoy held his head very close and ghosted his warm breath over it. Harry bit his lip to hold back a moan but rolled his hips a little.

"Easy there, Potter," Malfoy snickered and pulled Harry's pants down and the throbbing cock sprang free. Harry tilted his head back and screwed his eyes shut. The sound of the film in the background sped up its pace, as Malfoy's lips descended on him. He licked a stripe on the side of the shaft before he took him in and sucked.

It wasn't as this was the first blow-job Harry had received. Ginny had been quite fond of it, actually, but Malfoy's mouth was bigger and as he expertly swirled his tongue around the head, sucked and pulled, he could also take Harry deeper, all the way to the root without gagging. Harry looked down at the blond head that kept bobbing up and down on his prick, and it was so good. He felt his stomach heat up and his toes curl and faster than he thought possible, he was getting close. He tried to communicate this through his ragged breaths and ended up running his fingers through the silky soft hair, pushing him away. But Malfoy took a firm grip at Harry's hip and continued sucking and moaning, as if Harry was the tastiest thing, his cheeks hollowed and his lips nuzzled into the dark curls of Harry's groin. Then, Harry came. He felt the force of his orgasm rapidly build, from the pit in his stomach to the mush his brain had become, and he came in Malfoy's warm mouth, with loads and loads, his hips bucking, his hands pulling at Malfoy's hair and gasping for air.

Malfoy sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth, where some of Harry's cum had escaped, with an elegantly outstretched pinkie. "Mm, that was delicious," he smirked. "The Chosen Sperm!"

Harry put his hands over his face and couldn't help a stifled laugh, feeling relaxed and sated. "You're an idiot."

"And you're a pervert."

"Ferret."

"Git."

"Prat."

"Well, you can turn that bloody thing off now, you tosser," Malfoy grinned and jerked his head against the still moaning telly.

**Wednesday August 29, 2007**

The upcoming Wednesday they were to meet at Flourish and Blotts. Harry had suggested it.

"I've been invited to a book-release. I guess there'll be drinks and hours dóeuvre, reporters and such. Will it do as a date?"

"It will do perfectly. Who's the writer?"

"Do you remember Roger Davies? He was captain of the Ravenclaw team, and a couple of years above us at Hogwarts. Apperantly, he's become a sports-journalist and has written a book about Quidditch. I was asked to put my review on the cover of it." Harry groaned. "'Quidditch -analysing the game', the most boring book about Quidditch I've ever read."

"You didn't put that in your review, I hope," Malfoy had chuckled. Malfoy had been right, the awkward tension between them had subsided after Harry's orgasm, and they stood in the hallway and actually talked. But nothing more happened after that, and Harry was just a tiny bit disappointed.

"Of course not," Harry had snorted. "I don't think the publishers would have invited me if I had."

Harry was late. An iterrogation had gone on forever and Harry had to rush out in his uniform to meet Malfoy at the corner of the bookshop. Of course, Malfoy was on time and waiting with a displeased scowl on his face. "You're late, Potter, and why in Merlins name haven't you changed? I don't appreciate making an appearance under Auror surveillance."

"Sorry, there was no time." He placed a quick peck on Malfoy's cheek before he realized what he just had done and blushed.

"All right, Potter," Malfoy muttered. There was an amused twitch in the corner of his eyes. "Let's go inside."

They started quite a buzz when they entered side by side, but Harry forced a smile around the room, was handed a glass of Prosecco and they made their way around the store. At some point, after Harry'd been held up by an elderly wizard, who apparently had played Seeker for Gryffindor about seventy years ago and had a very long anecdote about it, Harry lost Malfoy to the crowd. He eventually got loose after endless attempts and began to servey the room after him.

He got sight of that trademark blond hair at the far side, where the signing podium was, deep in discussion with Roger Davies, about that awful book undoubtedly. Malfoy was leaning into the other man, showing him something on a page, smiling at him, not smirking, genuinly smiling! And Roger Davies, with his perfect hair and perfect teeth and perfectly broad shoulders, smiled back.

Harry felt something murky roam around inside and drowned his glass, when he heard a gentle female voice behind him. "Harry!"

He turned. "Cho?"

"Nice to see you again, Harry. It's been too long. How are you?" Her honey-brown eyes gleamed warmly at him, her round cheeks were rosy, and she smiled. She was more beautiful than ever.

"Just fine. And you? Still playing for the Magpies?" She had been recruited right after the war and had played against Ginny's Holyhead Harpies many times.

"No, not anymore." Cho laughed softly. "I can't sit on a broom right now, not with this little one on the way." She affectionally stroked her prominent baby pout.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling a bit stupid for not noticing. "Congrats. Who's the lucky guy?"

Cho's eyebrows shot up. "Roger, of course. Didn't you know we were married?"

Harry shook his head and cursed the day he stopped reading the Prophet and lost track of the latest gossip. His eyes wandered over to the two men at the other side of the room. He wondered if Malfoy knew, and why it mattered at all.

"And you're here with… Malfoy?" Cho asked tentatively as she followed his gaze. "I must admit it gave me a bit of a shock when I saw the pictures in the paper the other day," she smiled. "It was quite a surprise."

"It's not... I'm not... It's all very new, nothing official," Harry mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Cho tilted her head. "Taking him to an event like this makes it pretty official. You know how the Wizarding World works."

Harry did, far too well. But it would be worth it, he reminded himself. And blow over. Everything would eventually blow over.

**Friday August 31, 2007**

Harry couldn't believe it was Friday again. The weekend before and this week had gone by in a blur and Harry had trouble focusing on anything else except that tonight they were finally going to do it. Thank Merlin, there had been loads of work to keep him in the office until late every evening, but today he rushed home to shower and wait for Malfoy to come through the Floo. It had felt a bit strange to add Malfoy Manor to his connections and allow Malfoy through his wards, but it was the most convenient way.

Suddenly the flames turned green and Malfoy whirled out elegantly in Harry's living room. He was dressed only in a silky blue dressing gown and his hair was in his usual ponytail, but it was also a bit damp, as if he too came directly from the shower. A lose strand hang over his eyes and Harry had to fight the urge to reach up and push it back behind his ear.

Malfoy grabbed Harry's wrist. "Come on, I need you on a bed. Is there a bedroom somewhere?"

Harry nodded, mute at the thought, and led them into his bedroom. As they entered, he cursed under his breath for leaving it in such a mess. There were clothes and uniform-parts in various need of washing thrown over the chair beside the closet, empty tea-mugs on the dresser and a multitude of Magazines and paper-back novels on the floor.

"Classy, Potter," Malfoy chuckled behind him. "Did you bring the potion?"

"It's right here." Harry pointed at the vial standing next to a mug.

"Good. Take it now."

WIth shaking hands Harry lifted the little flask to his lips and swallowed the required amount. It tasted a bit of soap and something metal that reminded him of blood.

"Good," Malfoy repeated, "now, take off your clothes." His voice had taken a slightly darker tone.

Harry pulled the jumper over his head and opened his jeans. He wondered if Malfoy was naked under that dressing gown. He wasn't wearing any shoes, but neither was Harry. He got out of his jeans but left the pants on.

"Get on the bed. Do you have any lubricant?"

Harry froze mid-air over the bed. Shit! How could he forget something like that? Malfoy saw his flabbergasted face and grinned, "Luckily for you, one of us thinks." He took up a small jar from his pocket and placed it on the bedside table.

Harry gave a releaved sigh and rolled up on his back on the bed. "Shall I put out the lights?" He could hear the nervous wavering in his voice.

"If you like." Malfoy climbed up and sat on his knees beside Harry's legs. Harry looked around for his wand, but it had fallen out of his pocket as he undressed and lay far away from the bed. "Here, take mine," Malfoy said, before Harry has a chance to summon it and pulled out his own wand and gave it to Harry. "It used to work pretty well for you, as I recall." Harry gripped the hawthorn-wand, and the sudden intimacy of the gesture warmed Harry. He smiled at Malfoy, who was hovering right above him.

"Without this I never would have won against Voldemort, you know that?" He could feel its magic tinge in his hand. "We're quite good friends, the hawthorn and I." He waved the wand and dimmed the lights.

In the soft darkness Malfoy's hair shone like a beacon and he lowered himself closer to Harry, removed Harry's glasses and put them on the nightstand, and whispered, "Now, let's make a baby, Potter." With that he let his fingers slide under the elastic of Harry's pants and pulled them down. Malfoy's dressing gown slid apart and Harry could feel the naked skin of Malfoy's thigh against his own and Harry's newly freed cock pulsed with interest, the treacherous thing. Harry closed his eyes and hoped Malfoy didn't notice. 

"Breathe, Potter. I know what I'm doing."

"You've done this before?" Harry's eyes shot up.

"This is not the first time that I have sex, no," Malfoy smirked. He was much closer now and his warm breath whisked over the sensitive pulse-point under Harry's ear, giving him a shiver.

"You know what I mean."

"Just trust me for once, will you?" Malfoy said and then his lips descended on that spot and his hand gripped Harry's semi-hard shaft, and Harry gasped and bucked up to meet him.

"You're doing so well," Malfoy's lips tickled as they moved down Harry's throat and ghosted over his collarbone. "You're so obedient, so pliant, aren't you, Auror Potter?" His hand moved up and down on Harry's cock in slow firm strokes that made Harry shudder and whimper. Malfoy and his expert lips moved further down on Harry's torso and licked and bit at Harry's left nipple while his other hand pinched the right one rather hard. Harry yelped and his breath hitched.

"Turn around," Malfoy ordered.

Harry looked up and felt disappointed. "You're not going to..." He peered down on his now fully hard leaking cock, who was eagerly anticipating Malfoy's mouth.

"That was last week. Now, turn on your stomach."

Harry complied and rolled over. He immediately felt Malfoy's hands over his back and shoulder blades, long soothing strokes that went lower and lower, and eventually began kneading Harry's buttocks.

When Malfoy let one finger probe the crack between the two globes, Harry clenched up and felt his cock soften. This was it, he was finally going to do it.

"This isn't going to happen if you don't learn to relax, Potter."

"Easy for you to say," Harry snapped and tensed up even more. "You're the one who's getting to have all the fun."

Malfoy snorted. "Oh, if you say so. What if you like it?"

"Hah, you wish," Harry hissed. Then he yelped, "What in Merlin's pants are you doing, Malfoy?"

"Helping you to relax. You don't have to clamp up and endure until I'm finished, you know. I could make this feel good for you too, if you want me to. So, spread your legs a bit more." Malfoy's voice sounded muffled and once more he made a wet track with his tongue along Harry's perineum up to that most intimate sensitive place.

"Holy Hell!" Harry couldn't help bucking up to meet Malfoy's hot wet muscle as he cirkled and licked Harry's puckered hole. This was by far the wierdest hottest thing anyone had ever done to him and goose-bumps erupted all over his skin. Harry tried to hold back a moan and pressed his now fully hard dick into the mattress. Malfoy snickered behind him, "That's it, Potter, open up for me." Then he plunged his tongue further inside, working it in and out, massaging the tight ring soft and pliant. He fucked Harry with his tongue while Harry moaned and gasped at the sensation. "You think you're ready for a finger now?" Malfoy asked, his breath a little ragged and uneven. Harry nodded, unable to form actual words. Anything, anything to keep this going.

One lube-covered finger slid easily in and Malfoy added one more right away. He worked them around, but Harry clenched up again.

"Get up on your hands and knees."

"What for? Harry growled into the pillow. He felt exposed as it was, thank you very much.

"I can't seem to find it. I need a different angle."

"Find what?"

"Just do as I say, Potter."

With a sigh Harry complied and Malfoy kept working his slick fingers in different directions, when suddenly, "Aaahh!" Something sent off fireworks inside him.

"Oh, there it is."

"What _was_ that?"

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Malfoy brushed the gland with a second thrust of his fingers. Harry's cock jumped and leaked and _ached_ to pound into something, bereft as it was of the mattress. "That's your prostate, Potter. Want me to touch it again?"

"Yes, yes, again."

"Now, what do you say when you're a good boy?" He panted heavily and still worked his fingers inside Harry, avoiding, merely nudging that spot of pleasure. Harry felt he was going to explode if it didn't happen.

"Please, Malfoy, touch it again."

"Oh, you're so eager to please, aren't you? Maybe, you're ready for my cock. Do you want my cock up your arse?" Without waiting for Harry to respond he withdrew his fingers and hastily removed his dressing gown. Harry could feel the wet tip of Malfoy's cock nudge against his crack as Malfoy coated it with lube and began to press himself inside. One of his hands steered him while the other cirkled Harry's waist. Harry gasped and shuddered as the first inched penetrated. "It's all right, Harry, I've got you. Breathe."

Harry let out an unsteady breath and Malfoy pushed in even further and held still again, giving Harry time to adjust. Then he moved. He pulled himself out, almost all the way and thrust again, rubbing Harry's prostate on his way in. He fucked Harry in a long slow stride until he was buried inside, all the way to the root. Harry felt filled up, full, sated. Nothing he'd experienced before could compare with this. He moaned loudly and bucked up to meet Malfoy's thrusts.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Yes," Harry groaned.

"Do you want me to go harder and faster?"

"Yes!"

"What do you say?"

"Please, Malfoy. Please, fuck me harder and faster." That was it, now he had lost that last bit of self-esteem and Malfoy would mock him for it for the rest of his life. But Malfoy put his hand on Harry's sadly neglected cock and started stroking it while fucking him with more determination a nd speed, every stroke nudging and rubbing Harry's gland. Sweat from his torso was dripping down on Harry's back and his hot breath tickled the hair at Harry's neck. Harry could feel his orgasm building, and his arms were shaking and his knees were wobbling, and Malfoy pushed and pushed, and then he murmured in Harry's ear, "Come for me, Potter. You can do it." And Harry did.

He cried out and came with ropes and ropes of cum as he collapsed on the bed, and then Malfoy came as well, and Harry felt the warmth of his release filling him up. He could feel Malfoy grow limp on top of him, still inside him.

They lay still, only breathing, with sweat-covered limbs entangled, stuck together.

"Wow, that was quite intense, don't you think?" Malfoy rolled over on his back and nudged Harry with his elbow. Harry, who had his face buried in the pillow and no wish to face Malfoy right now, merely hummed. Intense, my arse. It was the best fucking shag in the histoty of shags!

"Do you think it took? Do you think you're pregnant?"

Harry's head shot up. He'd forgot. The baby!

He sat up and with trembling hands he put his glasses back on. There was a very easy way to test this, his magic. He held out his hand to summon his wand. If his magic failed now, that meant...

He steeled himself. " _Accio_ wand!"

His wand flew obediently into his outstretched hand.

"Oh, well," Malfoy sighed heavily and covered his eyes with his arm. "Then we'll have to do this all over again next week. Sorry, Potter."

**Wednesday September 5, 2007**

"Why do you always wear such ratty hand-me-down clothes? Don't you have anything nice?"

Harry looked down at what he was wearing. "These are nice." The jeans were new, but soft and baggy like he was used to, and the t-shirt, well, he'd got that from Ron, but its colour haden't faded in the wash yet and it only had a little hole at the hem. 

"Sweet Salazar's moulding pants," Malfoy moaned, when Harry turned his sheepish face towards him.

"I have a couple of new dress robes for special occasions," Harry shrugged. "I'm in uniform most of the day, anyway. The rest of the time I like feeling comfortable."

"No wonder you're so unsuccessful on your dates."

They've met outside Harry's house for their third 'date' and Malfoy had demanded that Harry didn't appear in Auror-robes again.

"Have you made any plans or reservations for today?"

Harry shook his head. "I tought we might just go to the Leakey."

"No, we'll go shopping. Don't look so surprised. If I'm to be seen with you in public, you need to look better than this."

"You know Muggle clothes?" It was a stupid question. It only took one look at Malfoy's perfectly clad body to see he knew how to dress.

"What do you take me for? Some cave-troll?"

"I just thought purebloods always wore robes," Harry muttered.

"Don't insult me by confusing me with my father, will you. I've had enough of the man to last me a lifetime."

He Side-Alonged Harry to a secluded area right behind Oxford street. Harry looked around. "If I'm right, this is an all-Muggle part of London. Does this even count as a date?"

"Hey, I call the shots here. I decide what counts and what doesn't. Right now, my top priority is to make you a little less embarrassing to be seen with."

They walked to a small quiet street with rows of tiny boutiques, not to any of the big department-stores Harry usually went to when he needed something new. "In here," Malfoy said and opened the door to one of them.

"Draco, darling! Haven't seen you in ages. How are you?" The young man behind the counter rushed up to them with his hands in the air. His dark hair was shaved on one side of his head and almost shoulder-length on the other. He wore a multitude of earrings on the shaved side, and Harry suspected his eyes were rimmed with khayal.

"Adam." Malfoy greeted the young man with a kiss. "Good to see you. It's been a while. This is a friend of mine…"

"He has the most unusual constellation name, hasn't he?" Adam interrupted and turned conspiratorial towards Harry. "I bet he has the wierdest new-age parents and grew up in some Hippie-collective or something. He won't tell me anything at all, the naughty thing. So, what strange star are you named after then?"

"None, I'm just Harry." Harry couldn't help but chuckled as he held out his hand to be shaken.

"How disappointing. Well, what can I do to help, dears?"

"Harry here needs a completely new wardrobe."

Adam inspected Harry up and down. "I can see that. Come, let's get you out of those horrid rags and see what we have to work with." He steered Harry towards a changing booth and pulled the curtain.

"I was thinking of starting with a pair of black jeans," Harry heard Malfoy say on the other side. Harry groaned and toed off his trainers.

He was only in his underwear and with his t-shirt half-way over his head, when the curtain was yanked open. "Not bad, not bad at all, Draco. Wherever did you find him? Buried out on the Wiltshire moors?"

"There is no moors in Wiltshire," Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. But he's a bit like a rough diamond, isn't he? Well, at least we have some good material to start with. Here, try these." Adam handed Harry a stack of trousers.

"They're all too small." Harry could hear the light whine in his own voice. The pair he had on clung to his hips in a way he wasn't used to. He opened the curtain and took a few uncertain steps out with his chest bare and his feet naked.

"My, my," Adam said, "that's definitely an improvement. Except his hair. You should take him to Raul's after this."

Malfoy swallowed audibly. "His hair is a lost cause, I'm afraid. I will spare Raul the possibility of a nervous breakdown. We'll just have to leave it as it is for now."

"Well, it grows on you, I suppose." He winked at Malfoy, and Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Malfoy's cheeks heat up before he turned away.

After an hour or so, more and more clothes were added to the growing pile on the desk, and Malfoy and Adam were looking at some belts. Harry roamed idly along the racks when his eyes caught on a black leather jacket. The texture was smooth and soft, the colour like charcoal and it smelled wonderful of, well, real leather. Harry took it off its hanger and it felt nice and heavy in his hand. In one hasty move he put it on.

"Oooh," Adam cooed, "someone is a bad boy."

"Apparently," Malfoy said.

Harry slid his hands over the fronts and looked in the mirror. He instantly loved this jacket, but he'd seen the price-tag. Never in his life had he had something like this. The size and cut were perfect on him. "It's very expensive," he mumbled.

"Well, it makes that little pert arse of yours stand out in the sexiest way possible, if you ask me," Adam said with his head tilted to get a really good look before he returned behind the counter.

"Potter," Malfoy hissed out of ear-shot of Adam, "you're one of the richest wizards I know. I'm sure you can afford it."

Harry took one more look at himself in the mirror. "You really think I should buy it?" He turned to face the other men.

"YES!" they both said in unison.

When Harry stood once more out on the street, he wore a button-down shirt in a dark turquoise, that Malfoy called teal, to his new black jeans and the leather jacket hang heavy on his shoulders. He felt good about himself and straightened up a bit.

Malfoy looked around and bit his lower lip. "It's not very far from here, but it's too conspicuous to Apparate there. Come on, Potter," he grabbed Harry by the arm. "I feel like celebrating and I know just the place. Walk or cab?"

They shrunk all of Harry's bags while in the cab and put them in his pockets before they stepped out in front of a small bar. Because it was a bar or a nightclub, not a pub like Harry was used to. Malfoy was recognized and greeted at the door and by the barman. He placed Harry in a small booth and went over to buy drinks. He returned and put two glasses on the table. "I figured you for a beer man, was I right?"

Harry took a sip of the amber draught. "Perfectly right." He'd had time to look around the place while Malfoy was at the bar and had noticed the all-male clientele and the rainbow-flag behind the counter. It was a gay bar. Malfoy had taken him to a Muggle gay bar, where he obviously had been before.

There was a dancefloor further inside the room, but it was still early in the evening and the music was soft and allowed the patrons to have conversations.

"So," Harry waved his hands around the bar and cleared his throat. He wasn't at all certain how to address this. "This is a gay bar."

"Yes."

"For gays. Men that are… gay." Harry could feel his face flash red and tried to hide it behind the beer-glass. "Because you… erm… you're gay?"

Malfoy put his hands on the table and fixed his eyes on him with a furrowed brow. "You're so dense sometimes, Potter, that I seriously doubt your ability as an Auror. Of course, I'm gay. I thought you knew. At first, I believed that was why you asked me about this, to impregnate you, and it really pissed me off. But you didn't, did you?"

Harry shook his head, eyes wide.

"Well, I've been dating Muggles mostly. Don't look so stunned, I haven't exactly been 'out' that long, since I was basically still engaged to Astoria until a couple of years ago."

"Why not any wizards?"

"If you haven't noticed, there aren't any gay bars on Diagon Alley, and being who I am, I doubt that it would have been a great success for me anyway. But I've been with a couple of wizards, while I was still at Hogwarts."

"Anyone I know?"

Malfoy tensed up and jutted out his pointy chin. "Why this morbid curiosity of my love-life, Potter?"

"Hey, you brought me here." Harry made a defensive gesture. "You knew I was going to ask."

Malfoy slumped back. "Fair enough, I suppose," he muttered. "Remember Miles Bletchley? He played Keeper for us our first five years."

Harry had a vague recollection of a boy with mean eyes and a smirking face, but then, that's how he remembered most of his Slytherin opponents. "He was your first?"

"No." A wry smile pulled Malfoy's lips apart. "That happened earlier. Forth year, the Durmstrang delegation. Sasha from Kiev. He had wavy brown hair and almond shaped eyes and he kept following me around the castle grounds, pretty much like you did two years later." Malfoy winked and took a drink from his glass. "His English wasn't that good, so we spoke French. Not that he was much better at that. After some time, though, we didn't have to talk much at all. He was seventeen and I was fourteen, and it was all new and fantastic. At the Yule-ball we ended up in one of the empty classrooms while everyone else were dancing downstairs, and that was the first time I had a dick in my mouth."

"And you liked it?"

"Oh, yes. But he was crazy about my hair and kept touching it, pulling it, playing with it. Most annoying."

"Well, your hair is pretty amazing."

"Harry Potter, are you saying that you like my hair?" Malfoy was smirking but there was a warm glimpse in his eyes.

Harry's cheeks pinked and he mumbled. "It's an unusual colour."

Malfoy gave him a long silent look. "Well, anyway. After the war… and everything... I had to get away, away from the Wizarding World, and I found this place. It became a haven for me for a very long time and I made friends here that didn't care where I came from or who my father was. They only wanted to drink and dance and get off. It was very liberating."

"What about the girl you were supposed to marry?"

"That was my father's arrangement. She had no more say in the matter than I had. But I couldn't go through with it, I couldn't do it."

"Do what?"

"Deprive her of every hope of hapiness. You see, she fell in love with me. She was young and sweet, and I did the only decent thing I could do; I broke the engagement."

"Ah, an act of unselfishness," Harry smirked. "How very un-Slytherin of you."

"As you said yourself, at some point we have to start acting like adults."

The music had turned up a notch or three, and it was getting more crowded along the bar. Harry looked around and met the eyes of more than one man.

"Time to go, Potter," Malfoy said, finished his beer and stood rather abruptly. "Let's get your straight arse out of here, before anyone perceives how cute you are."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a small trigger-warning on this chapter. Nothing big, but I don't want anyone to feel bad, so if you're uncertain, check the tags and read the notes at the end.

**Friday September 14, 2007**

He could get used to this. He had his hands pinned down above his head by Malfoy's sinewy arms and his brow rested against the pillow, his arse up in the air while Malfoy was slamming vigorously into him. Harry moaned.

It was the third Friday since they first did this, and Harry had not yet shown any signs of being pregnant. Three nights of shagging, and Harry hadn't seen Malfoy naked or touched him, their lips never met, and he never stayed. Not that Harry was _interested_ per se, he only found it a bit strange, that's all. Could it be because Malfoy was gay and Harry not? Back in his mind, though, the thought lurked that he found this too pleasurable. But he pushed those thoughts back again and concentrated on the baby that hopefully would be conceived tonight. That, and the way Malfoy's dick filled him up and how he was about to come just as hard and mind-blowing as the other times.

He had the feeling that Malfoy liked it when he clamped during orgasm, so he tried doing it and was immediatly rewarded by a ragged gasp. He did it again, and Malfoy started to get loud. He loosened one of his hands and wrapped it around Harry's shaft and started pumping. Harry kept pushing back and clamped once more and Malfoy grazed his teeth over Harry's neck, mumbling something incoherent that Harry couldn't make out, biting and sucking. When he bit, rather hard, at Harry's pulse-point, Harry came and Malfoy followed right behind him.

Harry felt Malfoy's sweat-coated body grew limp and heavy on top of him, his heartbeat pulsing against Harry's back. Harry liked the way the weight pressed him down, but when he shifted a little to get them chest to chest, Malfoy directly got up and put on his dressing gown.

Harry held back a disapointed sigh and sat up and reached for his wand. " _Accio_ wand."

Nothing happened.

Harry put on his glasses with trembling hands and sat up a little straighter. He tried again, voice firmer, incantation clearer. " _Accio_ wand!"

His wand lay still where Harry had put it, no movement, not even a quiver.

Malfoy spun around and looked at Harry, his eyes wide. "Your magic is forming the womb," he gasped and pressed his lips into a thin line. ""You're pregnant."

Harry just sat there, his arm still stretched out and his glasses a little bit askew. Finally, he lowered his arm and nodded. "We're gonna have a baby, Malfoy," he said. The thought suddenly felt so wierd, so unrealistic, so totally preposterous now that it had happened, that Harry started laughing. He tossed away his glasses and laughed and laughed, tears formed in his eyes and he rolled around in the bed, gasping for air.

Malfoy watched him with a stern face, not saying a word. He sat down beside Harry and wrapped his arms around him and soothingly started to rub Harry's back. "Shh, calm down, Potter. It's all right, it's going to be all right," he murmured as Harry started convulsing and tears seemed to overflow. Then Harry draped his arms around Malfoy too and pressed his wet face against the soft fabric on Malfoy's shoulder. He was going to have a baby.

**Sunday April 18, 2004**

"That's not fair, Ginny!"

"I've been telling you this over and over again, and you don't seem to listen."

"But if we don't buy the house now, it'll be gone, and it was perfect. It had just the right amount of small bedrooms for the children and that lovely back garden. You said so yourself." Harry put his chin out to make a point.

"Yes, it's a lovely house, but there will be others, in due time. But not now. We're hardly at home, any of us, as it is."

"But what if you get pregnant now?"

"I wont." She swallowed hard. "Harry, I've meant to tell you for some time now, but it's not an easy thing to say." She bit her lip. "I've signed a new contract with the Harpies."

"You what?" he roared.

"Another four years."

"You _lied_ to me!" Harry was furious now.

"No, I didn't!" Ginny yelled back. "I told you so many times how much I love this, how playing Quidditch is my life. Have you any idea of how good I am?" She glowered at him. "When was the last time you saw me play a game? I might have a chance to play for the National team, that's how good I am. But I can't do it with a bunch of kids. That's your dream, nor mine."

"But… but, you agreed to go look for houses with me." Harry stood crestfallen.

She laughed a little short laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Honestly, Harry, when was the last time we did something together, just you and me? Going with you to look at those houses was a chance for me to spend some time with you, and to daydream a bit. We never do anything; we never go out."

"We go out, we go to the Pub at least once a month."

"You go there with Ron and the rest of the Aurors, and you talk shop all the time. Sometimes Hermione comes too, or Luna, but most of the evenings I just sit there and watch." She got closer and drew her fingers through his hair. Her face was sad and serious. "I know you have difficulties, and I thought it would get better with time, that we'd become closer, but we're not. You're pushing me away every time I try, and I don't know if I can live like this much longer."

Harry pulled away. "So, what are you saying? That you don't want to start a family with me? That you don't want to be with me?"

"Harry, I'm twenty-two. Life is supposed to be fun, we're supposed to have fun. Merlin knows, we deserve it after all we went through. But you work _all the time._ No one demands this much of you, no one. We use this flat as some kind of basecamp, we never do anything together, we very seldom fuck, and you think that having a baby in all this is going to make things better? Sometimes I believe you keep going like this so that you're always too tired to think or feel." She became distant. "Sometimes I think you only like the idea of us together."

"There's no one else but you, Gin. You know that."

Ginny tilted her head and watched him, like from another perspective. "I know there's _nobody_ else, Harry. But there's _something_ else, isn't it?"

"Gin, don't."

"It's true, isn't it?" She turned and walked to the door. "You have to figure out what it is, Harry. What you really want."

**Saturday September 15, 2007**

Harry stretched like a cat. He woke up alone in the ruffled bed, just like the other times. Malfoy must have left right after Harry fell asleep. Everything was the same, yet it wasn't. 

He closed his eyes and tried to feel if he could sense something different, something out of the ordinary. He couldn't. But something had happened, his lack of magic was proof of that. He had done it. It was done. 

He put his hands on the lower part of his abdomen. There was to be a baby. His and Malfoy's. With a mop of unruly black hair and a pointy nose, no doubt.

He got up and went to the loo and then he pulled on his old joggers before he padded into the kitchen. He filled the kettle with water for a pot of tea and was just about to pull out his wand to heat it, as he used to do. With a small laugh he put the kettle on the cooker and turned the nob. Things were going to be different from now on. Really, really different.

**Thursday November 8, 2007**

"You're all right in there, mate?"

Harry rested his sweaty brow on the cold porcelain rim of the toilet seat. It was far from clean and not nice at all, but it still felt good. Besides, he couldn't _Scourgify_ it even if he had the strength. Ron could've thought of that, when he came in.

"I wonder why they call it morning-sickness, when you feel sick all the time," Harry mumbled.

Ron chuckled. "It was the same for 'Mione when she carried Rose. With Hugo, though, she hardly threw up at all, but instead she had the strangest cravings, some wierd salty liquorice and tofu. She had tofu to everything."

Harry retched again, getting rid of the last remains of his lunch. It's been like this for the last two weeks now, and Healer Smith said it was perfectly normal and could go on for another two months, maybe three.

Ron walked Harry back to their cubicle and patted his back awkwardly before he grabbed his cloak and went out on his assignment, leaving Harry with the pile of paperwork that only kept growing on his desk. He'd had eight weeks of this now and he was fed up with it already.

Harry tried to concentrate to get work done, but he felt uneasy and restless. After his fourth turn to the loo and his third cup of tea, he decided that it was no use. "I'm not feeling well, probably coming up with a cold or something," he informed the group of Aurors that remained in the office. "I'll go home for the rest of the day."

He was tired. He was tired of throwing up almost everything he ate. He was tired to the bone, but again, nothing to worry about, all part of being eight weeks pregnant. It irritated him that he felt so grumpy, that he wasn't happier. He _was_ happy.

He came through the Floo into his living room and flung himself onto the couch. But that didn't feel good either. He got up and went into the kitchen and opened the fridge but closed it immediately. He walked into the bedroom instead but went right back into the living room. Something didn't feel right; he was never this restless.

When the pain struck him, Harry fell to his hands and knees on the floor. No! He gasped for air. The baby!

Another pang of pain, lower in his stomach this time. "No-no-no-no-no!"

Harry managed to crawl over to the hearth. He needed help. The Floo-powder was in its usual jar on top of the mantle piece. Harry took a deep steadying breath and heaved himself up, one hand clutched to his abdomen, the other reaching for the jar. He knocked it over, but there was enough powder on the floor for him to grab a pinch and threw it in the fire. He called out the first thing to come to mind. "Malfoy Manor."

In a blur he heard Malfoy's voice. "Potter?"

"I think… I'm not... something's wrong."

Malfoy rose from his kneeling position. "Move aside, Potter. I'm coming through."

He whirled into the room with a cloud of ash. Harry curled up into a ball with his knees against his chest and drew a shattered breath. "I think something's wrong with the baby."

Strong arms lifted him and in his painfilled haze he could feel the pull of Apparation. Then in a brightly lit white room he heard Malfoy bellow, "HEALER!" before everything went black.

**Monday November 12, 2007**

"I'm very sorry, gentlemen," Healer Smith condoled. "As you are well aware of now, the baby died."

Harry glanced at Malfoy at his side. He was repeatedly chewing on his lip with a deep frown on his forehead, and his knee bounced. Harry turned back at the grey-haired man behind the desk and the numbness he felt since he woke up at St Mungo's returned. "Why?" he croaked out.

"These things happen," Healer Smith said with a concerned look. "As I most clearly told you, Mr Potter, wizard pregnancies are difficult and uncertain."

"Was this… could this be because of me?" Malfoy sounded both shaken and weary. "There's been a history of miscarriages in my family. I am an only child, but it was not my mother's first pregnancy."

Harry gave Malfoy a hasty look. He looked pale and his lips were now pressed into a thin line.

Healer Smith shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure it has very little or none effect on your current situation. As I said, these things happen, and my advice to you is to go home and try again as soon as possible. Your magical core is now restored to what it was before the conception, Mr Potter, but I strongly recommend rest and a couple of weeks away from work. You are obviously compatible with Mr Malfoy, so it wouldn't take to long for you to get pregnant again, if you wish. Do you need more fertility potion or another insemination syringe?"

"Syringe?" Malfoy turned to Harry, who went red as a beetroot.

"Erm, no, thanks," Harry stuttered, and almost breathlessly he added, "We ended up doing it... the natural way."

"So, you're in a relationship now? Splendid, Mr Potter, that will certainly increase your chances of being successful a second time. And Mr Malfoy," he turned to Malfoy with a toothy smile, "see to that he's taken care of. The first trimester is always the most critical, but no stress. Make sure he eats well, gets plenty of rest and only do mild exercise. Good luck to you both."

On their way out Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm and pushed him violently against the wall. "Potter, you son of a bitch, you tricked me."

Harry shook off Malfoy's grip and put his chin out. "As a matter of facts, I didn't really. You _presumed."_

"You tricked me, you wanted me to fuck you."

"Of course, I didn't. What straight man in his right mind would do such a thing? I did it because of the baby, which I _lost_ recently, remember?"

"You're such a fucking hypocrite, Potty," Malfoy growled.

"And you've always been a prejudice bastard, Ferret-face."

"I can see that you still harbour an overly high opinion of your own worth," Malfoy sneered. "I'm through with this, I want nothing more to do with you."

"Fine! It's not as if I want your degenerated inbred sperm, anyway," Harry shouted, red in the face and something burning behind his eyes. Then he Apparated home on the spot.

**Wednesday November 14, 2007**

Harry felt awful. He lay face down on his couch, his hands clenched into fists. He'd been crying. After the Dreamless Sleep had worn out, he had cried the whole night and a good part of this day too until only the pain remained. His baby was gone. Maybe it was a little boy, like Malfoy had said. He didn't know.

He would have to start all over again, find someone new who was willing to help him. Another pureblood wizard. Perhaps he should ask Charlie after all. He was a nice man, and very fond of his nieces and nephews. But somehow the thought of it made a taste of bile rise. He screwed his eyes shut and groaned. It wouldn't be the same as with… Malfoy.

Suddenly the Floo whooshed and a tall figure flicked the soot away with the tip of his wand on Harry's living room rug. Harry sat up with a start. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"It's Wednesday, isn't it? So, that means date-night." The insolent nonchalance in his voice made Harry see red.

"Are you out of your mind?" Harry yelled. "I'm sorry if I'm not up to be paraded around with you to improve your foul reputation after I _just lost a baby!"_ He got up and stood face to face with Malfoy. "Leave me alone, I just want to be left alone."

"Calm down, Scarhead. I have no intention of dragging you out in public. Do you really think I'd be that sadistic? I just wanted to check on you and see if you wanted some company. I didn't like the idea of you sitting alone, brooding. Have you eaten?" He turned away from Harry and took something out of his pocket and un-shrunk it on the table. It was a wicker picknick-basket.

"I brought some food," he continued while he took out a pie, bread and all kinds of stuff and placed them on Harry's coffee table. "There's some chocolate fudge here that is to die for when you're in a gloomy mood. My house-elf Pipsey made them for you." He opened a box and retrieved something round covered in cocoa between his forefinger and thumb and put it to Harry's lips. Harry automatically gaped and as the rich taste exploded in his mouth he slipped a small keening sound.

"Good, huh?" Malfoy smiled. "She always makes them for me when I'm sad. Pipsey, she's Dobby's sister, by the way, was very insistent that I'd tell ' _Mister Harry Potter, that they is all very sorry for us losing the baby'._ "

"You told your house-elf about the baby?" Harry asked a little stunned. Dobby had a sister, imagine that!

"No, but somehow they know that you carried the next Malfoy heir and that you'd lost him. They have their own kind of magic." He took out another small package from the basket. "I thought we could watch something on that DVD-contraption of yours. Something nice to get you in a better mood. I didn't know what to get so I had to ask for help. Apparantly, there's a whole _genre_ called 'Feel-good-movies'."

"You bought a Muggle-film?"

"Three, actually, I couldn't choose." Harry glanced at the covers Malfoy handed him, _The Holiday, My best friend's wedding_ and _Pricilla, queen of the desert._ Harry held the last one up for Malfoy to see with his eyebrows raised in question. "Ah, that one's mostly for me, perhaps," Malfoy grinned.

Harry rubbed his face and tried to sort out his thoughts and feelings. "Look, Malfoy," he began, "I appreciate what you're trying to do here, and it makes me feel like a total dick, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry i didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't mean to deceive you, not from the start."

"Why didn't you tell me about the syringe, then?" Malfoy peered at him with a small knot between the brows.

"Honestly, I don't know," Harry sighed. "The thought of the insemination thing put me off, in a way, and when you so willingly assumed that we were… you know, to get it done, I just... I don't know… well, I was a bit..." Harry paused his rant and bit his lip.

"Curious?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

They watched the movies sprawled out in each corner of the sofa tucked in under a blanket, their feet sometimes accidently rubbing against each other, and Harry ate the food. In the middle of the last film, which was a rather boring story about two women switching homes for Christmas, Harry glanced at Malfoy and asked, "So, your parents… they lost a baby too?"

"Not just one." Malfoy's eyes met Harry's and they were solemn and steel grey. "Four times, and the last, my older brother I suppose, was stillborn. They're all laying on the burial-knoll at Malfoy park. Mother planted different shades of pink roses on all of them. It's quite lovely when they all bloom."

"I guess that explains a little why you were such a spoild brat back when we were kids."

"Yes, I was spoild rotten, wasn't I?" He gave a little sad smile. "Mother became over-protective and Father unable to say no to anything, not until it was too late, anyway. It was hard on them, losing all those babies. Mother grieved fiercely and Father made himself distant and indulging. You see, in my family, I was the Boy-who-lived."

**Wednesday November 21, 2007**

"I want to go out somewhere," Harry stated a week later when Malfoy emerged through the Floo. He was sitting tensed up, gingerly on the couch, nursing a glass of Fire-whiskey. "I want you to take me out and buy me a digusting amount of alcohol."

"If you wish."

"Preferably Muggle, where no one knows me."

They went to a number of various pubs, where Harry knocked down one or two drinks and promptly wanted to move on to the next, restless and not very good company. After midnight, when the pubs had closed, they walked down to Soho in search for a bar or a nightclub.

"Maybe we should call it a night," Malfoy said, when Harry tripped on the pavement and Malfoy reached out his hand to steady him.

"Nooo," Harry whined. "I don't wanna go home. I wanna go dancing." He was thoroughly sloshed now.

Malfoy bit his lip. "I'm not that familiar with where Muggles go dancing around here."

"Oh, c'mon, Malfoy," Harry snickered and shook his head. "Y'know where we can go. Take me there."

Malfoy took him by the arm and searched his eyes, his silver-grey holding Harry's unfocused green. "Was that what you wanted all along? Why in Salazar's name didn't you say so?"

"Just take me there, wil'yu."

The bar was crammed this time of night and the music pounding. Bodies moved to the rhythm of the bass, half-naked and sweat-covered, and the lights, flickering in red, yellow and green, added to the surreal feel of it all. Harry knocked down two shots in a blink of an eye, then grabbed Malfoy's hand and dove right into that swirling hopping mass. Harry threw his hands up in the air and crowed with the other men in a whirling intoxicating notion of being free.

After a while, when the world started spinning a little too wildly and Harry stumbled around stepping on everybody's toes, Malfoy dragged him back to the bar.

"Drink this," Malfoy held a glass of clear liquid up to Harry. He took a sip.

"S' water!" Harry spit out. "I want a Fire-whiskey."

"Drink the water and I'll get you another whiskey. You're totally de-hydrated."

Someone came up and put a naked arm dangling with bangles and chains around Malfoy. "What have we here, Draco and Bad-boy."

"Adam, good to see'yu!" Harry yelled, overly joyed to find a familiar face, and placed a very wet kiss on Adam's cheek before he stumbled back into a solid frame of man.

"This is my boyfriend Stevie," Adam said, gesturing to the man.

Harry looked up and saw thick bulging arms, a broad chest and short cropped hair. "Hey, you look jus'like Charlie Weasley. Are you also a dragon-tamer?"

"No," Stevie said amused, "I'm in construction."

"Potter!" Malfoy burst out.

Adam choked on his drink and spurted it out, laughing. "Why do you still call each other by last names? You're not in that posh boarding school of yours anymore. You obviously like this guy, Draco. Is he this hilarious when sober too?"

Malfoy gave Adam a murderous look, but Harry missed that, deep in his own soggy thoughts as he was.

"You look like'yu could be a dragon-tamer," Harry slurred. "I wanne'to be one, but _ooh no,_ " he wiggled his forefinger demonstrative in front of them, "I had to chase the dark wizards instead." He lost his balance and bounced into Malfoy, who seemed far from amused when Harry looked back at him.

Harry squinted his eyes and tried to concentrate on the man's face. "But not Malfoy here," he continued with a small hiccup. "He's good, much better tha'evryone thinks. But, d'you know the best thing 'bout him?" Harry turned to Adam and failed as he tried to keep his voice low. "The best thing 'bout Malfoy, 's his cock."

"All right, that's it. You've had enough." Malfoy gripped Harry's arm as Adam squealed of laughter.

"I miss your cock, Malfoy." Harry clung to Malfoy now, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"I'm taking you home, Potter."

"Good, tha's good," Harry mumbled. "Yu'now, you don't really have to wait 'til Friday to fuck me."

He released his grip on Malfoy and took an uncertain step back, but before anyone had time to react, Harry went pale and threw up on the floor.

**Thursday November 22, 2007**

Harry woke with a pounding headache and the taste of something dead in his mouth.

"So, you're awake?" Malfoy's voice came from the chair nearby.

Harry groaned.

"How do you feel? Adam said you were the most entertaining drunk in a decade."

"Awful," Harry muttered into the pillow.

"Do you recall what happened?" Malfoy chuckled. "You sort of came out last night, Potter. Are you aware of that?"

Harry buried his head even deeper into the pillow. He had mercilessly a too vivid picture of last night's events. "No, I can't…" he mewled. "It's not possible. I'm the Saviour, I can't be bent."

"Well, you certainly sang praise to my dick before you ruined my shoes with what must have been a full gallon of vodka."

Harry groaned again and Malfoy moved closer to the bed. 

"You are what you are, Potter. No hero-status can change that. Here," he put a small vial on the bedside table, "it's a Hangover-potion. You'll probably need it. I'm off, then."

Harry snapped his head up. "You're leaving? Why?"

"It's eleven in the morning a weekday. I have things to do, Potter." There was a familiar haughty tone in his voice.

"I thought… erm… You don't actually work, do you?"

"You think I'm just laying about, the idle pureblood gentleman. That I don't _do_ anything. Well, for your information, I have things to attend."

Harry suddenly felt very cold and alone. "Malfoy!" he sat up and called after him. "Can you come back later? Tonight?"

Malfoy paused in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the floor. "If you like?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much." Harry felt something swell inside of him.

"It might be late," Malfoy stated. "Don't wait up for me." He left and Harry flung himself back on the bed.

**Friday November 23, 2007**

In the small hours of the night Harry woke up with the blond man sleeping beside him. He put on his glasses, picked up his wand and cast a faint _Lumos_ to watch him.

Malfoy had stumbled out of the Floo late last night, dead tired and mumbled something about 'slaughter the yearlings', but Harry couldn't make any sense of it. He was, after all, still on sick-leave and even if Malfoy was involved in some fucked up Dark Art sacrificial ritual, he'd deal with it later. For now, he only wanted to watch him.

His pale eyelashes formed perfect half-circles on the sharp cheekbones, and they fluttered a little as he heaved long even breaths. He didn't exactly snore, but a small sound came out with every puff of breath. The blond hair, almost white in the shadowed room, had fallen forward in front of his face. Sleep created a softness to him that he hid so well when awake, behind that mask of sneers and loftiness. He was truly beautiful.

"Draco," Harry whispered tentatively. Was he _Draco_ now? It still felt strange to think of him like that.

Harry waved his hand and lifted the duvet with a little wandless magic. He didn't want to disturb the sleeping man, he just wanted to look at him. Malfoy lay on his side facing Harry, his hand tucked up under his chin and his legs slightly pulled up. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, that Harry had lent him last night. His feet were naked. Harry couldn't keep his eyes from his feet. They were long and elegant, with slender toes and meticulously cut nails. Harry reached out his hand and dragged his fingers over the ridge and up over the ankle. Then the cotton of the pyjamas got in the way. He wanted to see, he _had_ to see, to touch, so he lifted his wand and mumbled an _Evanesco_ on the clothes.

Harry held his breath. Malfoy stirred a little in his sleep and turned to lay on his back, but he didn't wake up. Malfoy was naked. He lay naked in Harry's bed. Harry knew he'd been that before, but this was the first time he could see it with his own eyes, and that made it all more real, somehow. In an instant Harry knew exactly what he wanted.

He turned to the nightstand, picked up the small vial and emptied it. Then he ripped off his own t-shirt and pants, got rid of the glasses, before sliding back again beside the blond. Malfoy's legs were covered with dusty light hair that felt coarse and soft at the same time. Harry let his fingers trail up and down them, going a little bit higher with each stroke. He touched the firm muscles of Malfoy's thighs, the slender hips, where the hip-bone jutted out, the v-line that led down to the crotch, the patch of dark-blond curls that surrounded the long shaft. It lay soft, resting on the right thigh. Harry scooted down and ghosted his breath over it to see if it would respond to a little attention. It did, so Harry tried a lick. And then another one, and a kiss on the head and a lick on the slit. It tasted a bit strange and salty, but not in a bad way. Before he knew it, he had a cock in his mouth and was sucking.

He dared a glance up at Malfoy's face and was met with eyes that shone like silver in the night. "Are you molesting me in my sleep, Harry Potter?"

Harry let go of the wobbling cock with a slurping sound and grinned. "If you like?" He moved up and straddled Malfoy's hips and gripped Malfoy's prick with his hand. With the other he continued to probe a digit in and out his hole to open himself up. His own shaft was leaking as it rubbed against Malfoy's in a glorious way. Harry panted heavily and tried to add another finger.

"It's too dry, you need the lube," Malfoy remarked, "and I'm afraid that's in my dressing gown at home." Harry paused and thought. He had used saliva when he put his first finger in, but it wasn't enough. Could he summon the lube from Malfoy's house? Possibly, but it would take too long for it to get here. The Manor was in Wiltshire, after all. Anything else? Vaseline? Oil?

Harry held out his hand in the air. " _Accio_ olive-oil!" and the bottle from the larder came flying.

He poured a rich amount on his fingers and continued the administrations of opening himself up, two digits this time, scissoring them to make it faster. Harry was impatient. He put some of the oil on Malfoy's dick and lined him up so he could mount.

"You're not ready yet, it will hurt," Malfoy panted.

"I don't care," Harry grunted huskily. "I need this now." He decended on the leaking head of Malfoy's cock. Malfoy was right. The stretch hurt, but Harry pushed on and more of Malfoy pressed into him. Sweat broke out on Harry's back and chest and he gasped. He bent forwards to face Malfoy, to meet his eyes while his body adjusted to the intrusion. Malfoy squeezed his eyes shut and held back the urge to push. Harry rubbed his hands along Malfoy's bared chest, pinching the pink nipples a little. Malfoy grabbed Harry's hips and strained not to buck up into him, and his lips parted as he groaned.

Harry leaned in closer and Malfoy opened his eyes. They were lust-blown and almost black with a silver rim around them. Sweat coated his brow and made his hair damp and darker. He had bit his lip swollen and red, and in the faint light, the Dark Mark on his arm, that normally was faded grey, stood out black against his pale skin. Black and white, that's what it had always been with him. No in-betweens, all or nothing. Fire and ashes, life or death.

"You're beautiful, Malfoy," Harry murmured, his voice croaking.

Malfoy freed one of his hands from Harry's hip and put it instead at Harry's neck, and with a small sob, he pulled Harry closer. "Oh, bloody hell, Potter!" And he kissed him.

His mouth was hot and Harry leaned into the kiss. Malfoy's lips were hard and demanding and he probed his tongue into Harry's mouth, claiming him, deeper and deeper. Their teeth collided and Harry's head was spinning of lust and want. He fell into the kiss, drowned in it, in everything that was Malfoy. His skin, his scent, the hot tongue, the scraping of teeth, the flat chest that pressed to his own. Malfoy made a small keening sound, almost a whimper and his grip on Harry's hip hardend.

"Now, ride me," Malfoy said and pushed Harry back up so he could move. Harry swivelled his hips a bit to find the right angle, and then he rose and decended, hitting that magical spot inside him that almost made him want to scream of joy. He rode Malfoy, their hands locked together on Malfoy's chest, Malfoy bucking up to him, meeting him in every thrust. The heat started to pool in Harry's lower belly and his toes curled up, when Malfoy tensed and dug his fingernails into the palm of Harry's hands. Harry rode him out, milking the very last of him and rubbing his own erection against Malfoy's stomach and came himself, untouched.

With a heavy moan Harry collapsed on top of him and his lips searched and found Malfoy's. Now they were soft and reassuring and Harry could feel a smile pull at the corner of the blond's mouth as they played and nibbled. Harry buried his face in the crook of his neck as he slid off him and felt his limbs grow heavy with sleep. Malfoy put an arm around him and whispered, "You'll be the death of me, Potter. I always knew you would."

When Harry woke, Malfoy was gone again. The bleak daylight that came in through the curtains could indicate any time at all in this November weather, so Harry pulled out his wand from under the pillow and cast a _Tempus._

Nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a miscarriage. It is a big trauma to lose a baby, I know, but I tried to keep the angst low so the story doesn't halt up at this. It will turn out all right in the end.


	4. Chapter 4

**Christmas Eve December 24, 2007**

Harry tried to get his bearings as he came out of the hearth in the warm kitchen. The smells overwhelmed him and gave him a knot in the gut that was part love and part guilt. Christmas at the Burrow, he wasn't sure it'd been a smart thing to accept the standing invitation, but here he was.

Molly Weasley turned around at the sound of the Floo and gave a small screech of joy, "Harry, dear," she said and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. "How dare you stay away for so long? Didn't you think you'd be missed?"

"Hello, Molly," Harry squeezed her in return and nuzzled his face in the red hair that now was dusted with greys and always smelled of vanilla and lavender. "Merry Christmas. Has anyone arrived yet?"

"You're one of the last, boy. Arthur, George and Bill are out in the shed, doing Merlin knows what, Hermione and Ron are in the sitting room with Fleur and all the children, trimming the tree. Charlie's still sleeping, he gor here awfully late last night, and Percy and his wife are not coming this year." Her mouth twisted in pain. Things were getting better with Percy, but he still remained a distant figure in the family and Harry knew it hurt Molly more than she let on.

He cleared his throat, "And Ginny?"

"She'll be here soon," she said a little sharply and turned back to the work bench. He could sense by the way she kneaded the dough that further inquiring about Ginny was unwise at the moment. Harry always felt he'd let her down when he and Ginny broke up and it was quite clear that she hadn't really forgiven him. Harry changed the topic. "What about Teddy and Andromeda, then?"

"Oh, they will be here first thing tomorrow. Teddy wouldn't miss it for the world, opening the presents here with the rest of the family. I hope you bought something nice for him, Harry. That boy has missed you this autumn. We all have, but he's only nine and it's hard for him to understand why his Godfather hasn't had time for him as he used to."

"It's been difficult, Molly. I've had a lot on my mind this year. I'll make it up to him, I promise."

She turned and watched him carefully. "How are you, Harry? Ron told me that you might be pregnant again."

Harry smiled. "Yes, I am, but it's very recent and I try not to get too excited about it yet, after what happened the last time."

She hugged him again and with flour smeared hands she wiped tears away from her eyes. "Losing a child is the worst thing that could happen to you, and it don't matter if its two weeks or twenty years." She blew her nose in a corner of her apron. "Well, I'm very happy for you, if this is what you want."

"It is. And I'm very happy too."

After Harry had left Molly in the kitchen, slightly sobbing but with a happy smile on her face, he went into the sitting room, hugged everybody there and admired the tree. They were soon joined by the three men from the garden-shed, who smelled suspiciously of whiskey this early on Christmas Eve, and a newly awaken Charlie emerged from upstairs, dark circles under his eyes, but with a wide grin at Harry as usual.

That's when Ginny rushed in with the latest issue of Witch Weekly clutched in her hand. She waved it in front of Harry. "What the fuck is going on here, Harry?" she demanded to know.

The front page produced a picture of Harry and Draco at the Charity Gala for the war-orphans last week.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ginny," Harry stalled. But she wasn't that easy to divert. She opened the magazine at the centre and put it on the table for everyone to see. There were a number of photographs of what the paper described as ' _a whirl-wind romance between former enemies',_ and speculations about them planning for a family, as they had been caught ' _leaving St Mungo's after a visit at the famous Obstetrician, Healer Gordon Smith'_. Harry found himself feeling a bit uneasy about what the paper had decided to write, but it wasn't the first time and it would probably not be the last.

"Well?"

"It's not what you think, Gin," Ron said. "Malfoy's only a sperm-donor for Harry's baby."

"Look at the pictures, Ron," she yelled and jabbed her hand at one of the most vivid, where Harry turned his head and gave Draco a smile. Harry remembered the moment. They were in dress robes at the Gala and had just made a very generous anonymous donation together. The photo didn't show it, but Draco had squeezed Harry's hand hidden in the folds of the wide garments.

"And why is there a love-bite on your neck, Harry?" Ginny folded her arms and her eyes narrowed. Harry's hand shot up and pulled at the collar. He'd thought they were all sufficiently covered. Draco had been ruthless with him last night, and then refused to help Harry hide them under a _Glamour,_ the smug bastard.

"You're banging him, aren't you?"

Harry stood crestfallen and looked at the people who were his friends, his family. Once again, he had disappointed them. He wasn't what they all thought he was. He was a fraud and a fake, a liar and a cheat, but worst of all, a freak, not normal. "The Healer said," Harry stuttered, grasping at something solid, "it wouldn't be any risk for the baby if we…"

"The _baby?_ " Ginny howled. "Who said anything about the fucking baby?" Her face had turned a scary shade of red.

"Mind your language, Ginerva," Mr Weasley frowned.

"Excuse me for not fully understanding the situation," Charlie butted in. "But what, exactly, has Harry done here that's wrong?" A room full of people turned their heads to him. Harry started shaking.

"So, it's the Malfoy brat, but isn't that entirely up to Harry? He used to be a pain in the arse, but he's apologised to us all after the trials and he served his punishment. And, Ginny," Charlie went on, addressing his sister, "you act as if you're the scorned girlfriend, but in fact, you and Harry broke up years ago. He's moved on. It's time you did too." He walked up to Harry and put a finger under Harry's shirt-collar and peered inside. "Wow! You've found yourself a wild one, haven't you? Congratulations, mate. Make sure to tame this dragon of yours with just the right amount of spark still in him. That's how we like them, eh?" He winked at Harry.

Hermione clutched little Hugo to her shoulder and turned to Harry. "Is this true?"

Harry felt his lower lip wobble as if he was about to start crying. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'm sorry, everyone," he made a sweep with his eyes around the room. "I never meant for it to happen, it just did."

"But Harry, why didn't you tell us? There's nothing wrong with this, or with Malfoy, for that matter."

"Except his bad tatoo and his excellent bone-structure," Ron muttered under his breath. Hermione gave him a shove with her elbow.

"No, we mean it, Harry." She gave the baby over to her husband and walked closer to Harry. "If you're happy, if he makes you happy, that's all we want for you." She hugged him and after the briefest hesitation, Harry hugged her back.

"Thank Merlin!" Bill exclaimed. "Maybe we can have lunch now."

They all moved towards the kitchen, Ginny with her nose in the air and a huff, but the rest of them gave Harry a pat on the back or a shove over the head on their way. Harry remained in Hermione's arms, silently crying into her bushy hair. When they finally broke away, he wiped his tears and smiled, "Bloody hormones."

They stood there, alone in the room, the once Golden Trio, now with a baby in Ron's arms and one faint little flutter inside Harry that made him hope.

"I'm truly sorry, you know," Harry murmured.

"Stop saying you're sorry. What is there to be sorry for?" Hermione reprimanded.

"Erm...so, you're… erm, with Malfoy, then?" Ron coughed and squinted sheepishly at Harry.

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "No, it's just shagging."

"I didn't even knew you liked blokes, mate. You could have told us, you know."

"I didn't even know myself." Harry flushed and rubbed his neck. "Not really. Are you sure you're okay with it?"

"Of course, Harry," Hermione smiled. "How could you ever doubt that?"

"Absolutely," Ron stated. "Malfoy, though." He made a face.

"He's not at all what we thought he'd be. I mean, he's still a prat sometimes, but he's also smart and funny, and he can be very considerate." Harry thought about the time that had past since he sent Draco the owl that told him he was pregnant. For some reason they had continued to meet twice a week, continued going out together and continued having sex. Harry didn't complain, not at all. "He sends his house-elf over with food every day to make sure I eat properly, now that I'm pregnant again," he told his friends. "He's concerned I don't take care of myself as I should, and he grieved the baby we lost, much more than I thought he would."

"Well, if that's how it is..." Ron started but he got interrupted by Gerorge, who darted his head out of the kitchen. "Come on, you sappy morons, you'll miss lunch!"

**Christmas Day December 25, 2007**

"Wow, it's a broom! A real grown-up broom!" Teddy screamed and his hair shifted from bright blue to pink and back again of excitement. "Thank you, Harry. Thank you." He threw his arms around his Godfather.

Harry hugged him back. "Merry Christmas, Teddy. Now, I can't take you flying on it." The boy pulled away and gave Harry a sullen look, but Harry continued. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have no magic at the moment, but if you tell uncle Ron, that you've got the latest edition of the Nimbus X-series, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to help you try it." He squeezed the boy hard once more, then let him down to see him run out with a broom taller than himself in a tight grip. It was Christmas morning and most of the children in the extended Weasley-family were already out in the garden playing with their new toys.

"You're far too gernerous with that boy, Harry. He could do very well with the broom you gave him two years ago." Adromeda Tonks sipped her tea. He sat alone with her in the kitchen, greatful for a quiet moment after the booming chaos that Christmas breakfast at the Burrow always was. He had spent a long night talking to Ron and Hermione and reconciling with Ginny, not that she'd admitted being wrong, but she spoke to him again and he was content with that.

"I've been too absent this year, I wanted to indulge him a little."

"So, the rumour's true then. You are expecting again?"

"Yes, if everything goes well, it'll be due late in August."

"And what about my nephew?"

"Yes, Draco is the other father."

Andromeda gave a sly smile. "That's not what I asked, and you know it." She was a Slytherin and a Black after all.

"I'm not sure," Harry rubbed his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. I had such a clear image of how I wanted things to be, and now, everything has changed. It's like my life is spinning, totally out of my control."

"Life has a tendency of doing that. It's not necessary a bad thing."

"I like being with him," Harry said tentatively.

"That's a start," Andromeda mused.

"And I don't think I want to be an Auror anymore," he said very fast.

Andromeda was silent.

"I know, I know, I shouldn't even be thinking that," Harry said, holding his palms up in defence.

"Why on earth not, boy? Who says you have to do something you don't want to?"

Harry kept his mouth shut and his hands clenched as fists.

"What would you like to do instead, then?" Andromeda asked.

Harry gave a short humorless laugh. "Apart from being a father, I have absolutely no idea."

"Well, if everything goes as it should, you'll have plenty of time to think this over. Don't for a minute believe that you owe anything to the Wizarding World. You've done more than enough already. Besides, I'm sure Draco could use some help. That boy is working himself to the bone, if you ask me."

"Draco? Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, _Draco._ How many nephews with that name do you think I have?" 

"I didn't know you saw him. You never said," Harry muttered.

"You never asked. Of course, I see them. I decided to contact them right after the trials. Cissa's not been well and she's always been my favourite sister, after all. Not that she had that much of a competition," she chuckled dryly.

Harry fumbled with his shirtsleeves and kept his eyes down. "Erm… What does Draco do, exactly?"

Andromeda inclined her head and narrowed her eyes as she watched him. "Don't you think you ought to ask him that? In my opinion, though, he's developed into a very fine young man, much more than I ever thought he'd be with Lucius as a father. I never liked that man. If Draco should chose to be with you, I'd say you'd be very lucky." She put her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "Having a child glues two people together in a way you can't imagine. Be good to him. Merlin knows, he's been through a lot and life hasn't been kind to him. He's worked hard and deserves a little happiness. You both do, and if you try to look past all the prejudices and stubbornness, it might be there for you to find."

**Friday February 15, 2008**

"What's this?" Draco held up a stack of something suspicious on a plate.

"That's my peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches. Pipsey makes them for me, and no," Harry swiped them out of his hand, "you can't have any of them."

"I wouldn't dream of it. That's gross, Potter." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Now that you finally can eat, this is what you want?"

Harry popped one into his mouth and grinned. "They're fantastic. But you're still not getting any. There's some stew in here, you can have that, but save some for me. I want to have that too after I've finished these." He picked up the contents of the wicker-basket, that once more stood on his kitchen table when he got home, and since it was Friday, Draco had come over to join him. They still met up twice a week, not necessarily doing much more than spending their evenings together, watching telly, eating, talking.

The nausea that ripped through him most of the day was now replaced with a raging hunger, and Harry had a suspicion that the snugness he felt in his jeans was more due to him sitting on his arse all day and eating like a pig, than his three months baby-bump.

In the bottom of the basket Pipsey had placed a box of heart-shaped chocolate biscuits. As Harry placed them on the table it reminded him.

"You know," he started, "the strangest thing happened to me yesterday."

"Oh?" Draco questioned neutrally, eating his stew prim and posh with both knife and fork. Harry was, as always, amazed of how much warmth this cool collected man could spread, only by sitting here in Harry's barren kitchen.

"I had a Valentine's card. It was anonymous, and I thought it was a joke at first, but when I read it again, I realized I remembered the lines."

"Is that so, how quaint." Draco still showed no emotion on his face.

"Yes, they were the same as in that horrid singing Valentine's I received second year. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Me? What makes you think that?"

"Well, it had a certain Malfoyish tone to it. Ron thought Ginny had sent it at the time, but I don't think it was her. I don't think it's her now, either."

He picked up the card from his robe pocket and read out loud.

_"His eyes are green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_His hair is as dark as a blackboard._

_I wish he was mine, he's really devine,_

_The hero that conquered the Dark Lord."_

He folded the card and gave Draco a glance. "Did you write this?"

Draco snorted. "You're reading it all wrong." He snapped the card out of Harry's hand.

"It was you. Hah, I knew it!"

"It was a prank! I thought it'd be funny, but then I got shit-scared anyone would figure out I wrote it and get the wrong idea. What do you think I was doing in that blasted corridor? I tried to take it back, but it was too late."

"So, you liked me back then?" Harry couldn't help a little smug smile.

"Hardly," Draco huffed. "I detested your bloody bespectacled face, with your famous scar and your sparkling green eyes, and every time I saw you I got that funny feeling in my gut that made me want to punsch you." He peeked at Harry through a part of his fringe. Then he laughed and Harry laughed too.

"I was going through some old schoolbooks the other day and the draught to this fell out. I felt it might be time to come clean with it, and since Valentine's was coming up…" He quirked a shoulder.

Harry hesitated at first, but then he darted around the table and sat himself in Draco's lap, straddling him. "You liked me." He cupped Draco's chin in his hands. "You like me."

"There you go again, Potty, always with this too high opinion of your own value."

Harry took Draco's lower lip between his teeth. "You like me," he murmured.

"That's what you think." Draco tried to sound haughty, but he was a little out of breath. Harry nipped at his lip again and darted out his tongue to lick inside of it.

"Uhu, that's exactly what I think," Harry gasped and captured Draco's mouth full on. Their tongues fought and their teeth scraped, and Harry closed his eyes and drowned in that hot mouth, those full lips. He put his hand at the back of Draco's neck and pulled him even closer, and he could feel Draco's hands dig into his buttocks, pressing their pelvises together.

When they finally broke away to get some air, Draco puffed as he pinched Harry's arse-globes, "Merlin's pants, Potter, you're getting heavy!" and he laughed as he ducked when Harry raised his hand to shove him over the head.

**Saturday February 16, 2008**

"Do you have to leave? It's Saturday," Harry whined as Draco got out of bed and let a cold whiff in under the duvet.

"Have to. As if you only worked office hours when you were out in the field." Draco pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt. "I have too much to do."

Harry sat up. "Why don't you ever want to talk about what you do, or show me, for that matter? It's not my business, but I'd really like to know."

"It's only the Manor."

"Why can't I come?" Harry held his breath.

Draco averted his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of asking you, Potter."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I don't think you would like it very much." He laughed bitterly at the understatment. "You were a prisoner there, Potter. Your friends were tortured there, by members of my family. You almost got killed there."

"But I wasn't, thanks to you." Harry got up and stood right by him. "You saved me, Draco, when you didn't identify me, and that changed the outcome of the war. And when I snatched those wands out of your hand, well…"

A little sad smile pulled at Draco's lips. "Well, I didn't put up much of a fight over them, did I?"

Harry drew his fingers through the long blond hair at Draco's neck. He hadn't put it up in its usual ponytail yet and it fell lose over his shoulders. "I keep telling everybody that the war was a long time ago and that it's time for us all to move on. Let me get a chance to prove that to myself. Take me with you and show me how the old place looks like these days."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. After all, you keep saying that it's a boy that I'm carrying and that he will inherit the whole thing. I might as well know what the fuzz is all about."

Draco bit his lip. "Alright, but not today." He held up his hands to stop Harry from protesting. "It's Mother. I haven't told her yet. Not about you, not about the baby that might be coming. You're only twelve weeks, it's too early. I don't want to jinx this."

He sat down at the bed and pulled Harry down beside him and laced their fingers together. "She's… After the trials, after Father was taken away to Azkaban again, she broke. You see, she loved him very much, after all that he'd done, the bastard. She still does, and everything she had built her life on collapsed. Some days she rushes around the house, in search of something, some days she doesn't leave her bed. I took the wand away from her when I started to fear she might hurt herself. Her sister Andromeda visits sometimes, and then she talks like they're still young girls, like none of the things connected to the war and Voldemort has ever happend."

He sighed and Harry put an arm around him and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"She has good days too," Draco continued, "and on one of them I will tell her about your baby. Maybe that will help her get in touch with reality again, help her heal." He smiled at Harry. "Besides, this time of year the estate is at its worst. If you come, we want to make a good impression on you."

**Saturday November 12, 2005**

Dark. Cold. Empty. A flickering blue light came through the window from a neon-sign across the street and the perpetually burning magical fire in the sitting room cast a yellowish light, but otherwise the flat was compleatly dark.

Harry placed the piece of parchment on the kitchen table and looked out of the window. London was living its booming life underneath him, constantly changing, but this far up no human sounds reached, only the rattle of cars and trains and the screeching of sirens.

He opened the fridge and the light that turned on almost blinded him. It was mostly empty, except for the basic ingrediencies Hermione told him he should always have if he wanted to cook. He could cook, he just didn't. Harry sighed. He should have accepted Ron's invitation to stay and eat. Not that he was very hungry, he usually wasn't.

He went back to the table again and read the parchment. The name of a Mind-Healer. Hermione had insisted he took it as he left them tonight. "She is the best, Harry. I've made inquiries…" she put her hand on his chest to stop his protest, "discrete inquires, and everyone I talk to tells me the same. Send her an owl, Harry. You can't go on like this, you're barely living."

She was right, of course. She always was.

He flicked the lights on with his wand and looked around. This flat was as far from what he wanted as anything could be; in the centre of London with the convenient closeness to the Ministry everyone had persuaded him was a good thing. A bedroom, a sitting room with a Muggle telly and a Floo-connected fireplace, a small bathroom with no tub, only a shower- cubicle, and a kitchen with a table that barely sat two. Not that he had any dinner guests. The only time Ron and Hermione had stayed here to eat, the day he moved in, they'd ended up in the sitting room in front of the TV, eating pizza from the box, anyway.

Prison. He could just as well be in prison.

He discarded his Auror-robes on one of the wooden chairs at the table. Today had been a good day, though. He had followed Hermione home from the Ministry to see Ron, who was on parental leave.

Little Rose had been the most wonderful baby, and Harry had sat with her on his knee, burying his nose into the soft red curls at her neck, inhaling her sweet baby-scent. Sometimes he just wanted to grab her tight in his arms and run, run far and fast into hiding, and shield her from the world. He knew it was a silly notion, her parents were the best people in the world and more than capable of taking care of her themselves, but still. It was a sick thought, and he despised himself for having it. He gave Rose back to her father and stood.

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" Ron had asked. "I've made lasagne."

"Thanks, mate, but I'm beat." And he had left.

Odd and wrong, that's how he felt.

Harry looked once more at the note Hermione had pressed in his hand right before he stepped into the Floo. It was late, too late to contact a stranger, but if he had to wait until office hours, he'd never get it done.

With a frown he sat down, _Accio-ed_ a quill and parchment and started writing.

_To Healer H. Donner,_

_I'm sorry for the owl in this late hour, but I think I need your help. My friends tell me I need help, and they are usually right._

_No doubt you know who I am and what happened to me before and during the war, and in the final battle. I guess I have a few issues. Could you make time to see me? I'd be most greatful._

_Sincerely Harry J. Potter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been tampering a bit with the birthyears of Ron's and Hermione's children, Rose and Hugo, but it suited my story better this way, and hey; it's a fan-fic!


	5. Chapter 5

**Saturday March 22, 2008**

"You have no idea in what state everything was in after the Snatchers and the rest of Voldemort's riff raff left the premises. It was a complete mess and it took me ages to get it all back together again." Harry and Draco crossed the vast garden over to a clutter of buildings not visible from the house. It was a lovely spring day with a mild wind and the sun broke through the clouds with a promise of better days ahead.

"I thought you had house-elves to do all the work?"

"Well, they need guidance for one, and they only do household work like cleaning and cooking. The land and the rest of the estate is mine to run. Before the war, mother did most of that, as my father spent a lot of his time at the Ministry."

They took off to the left, through a gate in the stone-fence and over a sloping hill.

"There are farmhands, tenants and millworkers," Draco informed. "There are crops to oversee, livestock to attend; sheep, pigs and cows."

"You have Muggle cows?" Harry asked confounded. He stepped carefully not to trip in his borrowed Wellingtons. They were Draco's and at least two sizes too big. Draco could've easily Transfigured them for him, but Harry didn't want to ask.

"A cow is a cow, neither Muggle nor magical." Draco shrugged. "I bet you only thought it was what you saw, a big house with a large recreational garden around it. It's much more than that. Small farmsteads, the village, a mill and workhouses. Where did you think all the food you ate at Hogwarts came from? The treacle in your treacle-tart?" He smiled. "We grow the sugar-beets to make that. Food cannot be conjured out of thin air, you know that. Many old pureblood country-homes, such as ours, provides foods of various kinds to Hogwarts, the Ministry, St Mungo's and many other places. We pride ourselves in the Wizarding World to be as self-supportive as we can."

"So, you're basically a farmer?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. Wiltshire is my home, it's what I was raised to do, to be. The politics were a side-line interest my father indulged in, but I'm more of a country-boy, like my Grandfather and the ones before him."

They walked over a meadow that was only just spurting green and got a full view over the valley below them.

"There's wizard families that has lived on the estate for generations, and they're depending on me to make us all prosper. The Bulstrodes have their dairy right down that lane over there. They make the best cheese in all Wizarding England, if you ask me."

A sky-larch darted up in front of them and started chirping its warning song, soring high up in the air. "Let's go back," Draco said. "We'll have tea in the Winter-garden with my mother and I don't want to make her wait." He put his arm around Harry's waist, slightly stroking a thumb over the small swell at the side of Harry's tummy. "And we'll tell her about the baby."

Mrs Malfoy sat in a wicker-chair where the sun made a ray of warm light through the high window. An elf was scurrying around her, tucking a plaid over her knees. Harry saw the elf's gigantic green eyes give him a furtive look and something about them reminded him of Dobby.

Draco took a couple of long strides over to the woman. "Mother," he said and bent down to kiss her. "I want you to meet someone." He took her hand in his. "Mother, do you remember Harry Potter?"

Narcissa Malfoy raised her head and her eyes fell on Harry. She had aged. In the decade that had past, since he last saw her, her hair had greyed and her eyes had lost their clarity. She was thinner than he remembered and the hand that rested in Draco's firm strong one, was pale and wrinkled. She was only fifty-three.

Harry walked up to her. "It's nice to see you again, Mrs Malfoy." Definetly nicer circumstances.

"Mr Potter." Her tone was distant and held a questioning note, but she removed her hand from Draco and held it out for Harry to take. "How kind of you to visit, Mr Potter. Would you like to have some tea? Pipsey," she turned to the elf. "Will you be so kind to fetch another cup for Mr Potter?"

Pipsey handed Harry a cup from the tray that was already set for three, and Harry gave her a smile and sat down in the chair adjacent from Mrs Malfoy and her son.

"Mother," Draco started after a while of small chitchat, and once again took his mother's hand. "Potter... Harry and I have something to tell you." He swallowed and turned to Harry, as if he needed support for what he was about to say.

Harry reached out and took hold of her other hand. "I took a potion," Harry begun. "There is a baby, Draco's baby." He placed her hand on his small prodruding belly. "I'm pregnant and Draco's the other father."

Her eyes went wide and she turned to her son with a questioning face. Draco nodded. "Yes, Mother, Potter's carrying the next Malfoy heir."

She shifted to Harry again. "The bloodlines, the Black and Malfoy-bloodlines, they will continue?"

Harry looked over the small table and couldn't help an eyeroll as his gaze met Draco's. Typical pureblood thinking. Draco's mouth quirked in a little scew smile. "That's right, Mother, the lines won't die with me. Though, mixed with Potter's, they won't be pure anymore." His jaw clenched and his eyes got hard.

Narcissa Malfoy looked wide-eyed at her son and at Harry and then back again. "But they won't die out, Draco. That's the only thing that matters." She turned back at Harry again and looked at her hand still placed on his stomach. "You're having my grandson?"

"Well, Draco tells me it's going to be a boy," Harry smiled at her.

"If that's what you wish for, then that's what you get." She suddenly rose. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, you'll have to excuse me. I'm very tired, I'm afraid." She took a step, but swayed slightly. With a crack Pipsey was at her side, holdig her arm in a steadying grip. "I'm going to lay down for a while, Draco. Make sure Mr Potter is comfortable for the rest of his stay here. We don't want him to find us inadequate in our hospitality." Then she left the room with her hand resting on the little elf's shoulder.

When she was gone Draco slumped down in his chair and took a gulp of his tea. "That went well, all things considered."

Harry sat back and narrowed his eyes at him. "The blood-status of the child, is that really an issue? I thought that kind of thinking was longe gone."

"Then you're a fool, Harry Potter. Pureblood families have nourished these believes for centuries. It's not something that vanishes with laws and politics. Not for generations, anyway. And I'm not even sure it should be."

Harry started protesting but Draco shut him up. "Think about it, there are thing about the bloodlines that's inexplicably connected with the magical cores and could be lost if there were no purebloods left. My ability to get you pregnant is only one of them." He held his hands up in defence. "I'm not saying we're better than half-bloods or Muggle-borns. That was the believes of my father and what I was taught when I was a child. I've learned better."

"And your mother?"

Draco sighed. "I honestly can't say. I know for a fact that she never shared my father's faith in the Dark Lord, but she's very proud of her heritage. As I am too." Then his grey eyes glittered as he looked at Harry. "And I will be very proud of my son's heritage, as well. He'll be part Malfoy, part Black, part Potter and part Muggle. What better combination could there be for a young wizard in our times. But for the most, he'll be his own, with his own choices to make, his own mind and his own pride. And I can't thank you enough for giving me this wonderful gift." He stood and faced away from Harry, and with a short laugh he wiped his eyes. "I thought you were the one with the raging hormones. Come, before I make a complete fool of myself and start bawling. Are you up for a tour around the house?"

**Friday May 2, 2008**

Harry climbed the podium and looked out over the mass of people gathered on the Hogwarts grounds. The remembrance-day of the Battle of Hogwarts drew a crowd every year, but this being the 10th, exceeded them all. There was a mild drizzle in the air, but over the audience a thick protection charm hovered, and from where Harry was standing it looked a little peculiar, even if you were a wizard.

He was the last to speak. Headmistress McGonagall had been the first, then Minister Shacklebolt and now it was Harry's turn. He had hardly listened to any of them. He hated doing this, and every year he felt unable to say no. He looked up and met the eyes of his friends, Ron's and Hermione's on the front row with Rose and Hugo in their laps. Hermione's eyes were filled with tears. At their side the whole Weasley clan, Molly with her face buried in a bright blue handkerchief, Arthur with his arm around her. Beside them George, with a look on his face as if it could have been carved in stone. Harry's eyes wandered, searched, and eventually found him. A reassuring grey gaze met his, from further back at the side, and he nodded slightly.

Harry took out the parchment from his robes-pocket with fingers that trembled and read the names listed there, as he had done every year, in alphabetic order:

_"Brown, Lavender, daughter and friend..._

_Creevey, Colin, son, brother and friend..._

_Lupin, Remus, father, husband and friend..._

_Snape, Severus, friend..._

_Tonks, Nymphadora, daughter, mother, wife and friend..._

_Weasley, Fred, son, brother and friend."_

The list was long and as always there were certain names that stood out to Harry, as if written in letters of fire. He carefully folded the parchment and put it back in his pocket.

"These are the names we will never forget. These are the names of heoes, of casualties of war. They gave what is most precious, their lives, so that we could live in freedom and we try to honor them every day by doing that; living. We also say amongst ourselves that the war was a long time ago, ten years, a decade. That it's time to move on and leave it all behind us. But can we?" He paused and looked out over the mass of witches and wizards.

"A long time has passed, yes, that's true, but some of us still feel there are things that divide us. When we no longer separate ourselves by what side we stood in the war, in good or evil, Light and Dark, then, and only then, can we say that we have moved on."

He took out a list of names from his other pocket. "There were others that died that day. People we don't acknowledge on this day. They were not heroes. But can we truly say we have moved on, put the war behind us, if we can't acknowledge these casualties too. They too were men and women who are missed by friends and relatives."

Harry swallowed and read:

_"Carrow, Alecta, daughter, sister and friend,_

_Crabbe, Vincent, son, brother and friend…"_

A rustle came over the crowd, a murmur. Harry kept reading.

_"Dolohov, Antonin, son and friend…"_

A loud "Boo!" was heard.

_"Greyback, Fenrir…"_

"Next he'll be saying we shoul mourn the Dark Lord himself," some witch was shouting.

Harry's hands shook and the names on the list became a blur under his eyes. Something sharp hit him on the shoulder. Harry looked up at the crowd.

"Get off!" was heard.

The next stinging-hex hit him at the head and made him dizzy. "You and your Death Eater-boyfriend!"

"And that's his snake-spawn he's pregnant with!" Another hex hit him, this time a tripping-hex and Harry fell.

He heard a woman cry out, "Harry! the baby!" Maybe it was Hermione, but Harry wasn't sure, the noise and the commotion were too loud, and Harry screwed his eyes shut. People were scurrying to get up to the podium. Harry heard, as from far away, McGonagall call for order and to remain in the seats.

Suddenly, a huge bull of a man was elbowing his way through the mass that was pushing in on Harry. With strong bulging arms he tore his way ahead, lifted Harry as if he weighed nothing and carried him to the entrance of the castle. Harry closed his eyes and locked his hands thankfully around the stranger's thick neck.

When they were safe inside, he put Harry down gently, and as their eyes met, Harry saw that it was Gregory Goyle. His small piggish eyes still didn't hold a large amount of intelligence, but they were honest and solemn.

"Thank you," Harry said.

Goyle hummed and cleared his throat, as if he was unused to speak. "No." He looked over his shoulder at the door and the small group of people that now emerged through it. Then he turned to Harry again. "You read his name. He was my best mate," he stated simply.

With a few long strides another figure was at Harry's side, and he grabbed him and shook him vigorously. "You stupid naive idiot of a man," Draco hissed. "How could you ever think they were ready for that?"

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione fell on her knees at Harry's side, Ron stood, looking bewildered at him.

"I'm fine." Harry patted her arm and turned to Draco. "I'm all right, Draco, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His voice pitched. "You risked your life and the baby's. That was the most foolhardily reckless thing you've ever done." He clenched his hands and was shaking with anger.

"No, it wasn't," Goyle mumbled.

"Oh, shut up, Greg!" Draco sputtered.

"You're just worried 'cause you love 'im," Goyle went on. "You always has." He stood clumsily. "I gotta be out there." And then he patted Draco on the back and sluggishly hastened to the door.

The small group of people gathered around Harry on the floor in the Entrance Hall gaped after him. Harry was the first to speak. "What's Goyle doing here anyway?"

"Didn't you know?" Hermione spun her head back at Harry. "He's been the caretaker here at Hogwarts since Filch finally retired six years ago."

"Poor Greg," Draco's voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "He couldn't bear using his wand again after the war. McGonagall offered him the position. He seems quite happy here, all things considering."

Speaking of the witch, the doors flung open again and a very agitated Headmistress marched in with her robes billowing, her pointy hat askew, and with Minister Shacklebolt, Head-Auror Robards and a few of the Hogwarts staff in toll.

"May I ask, Mr Potter," she demanded and her piercing eyes bored into Harry's, "what in the name of Merlin and Morgana was the meaning of that?"

"Why wasn't the Ministry informed," Kingsley almost interrupted her, "of your change in your speech? That was a very dangerous situation you just put us in, Harry."

"We could have prevented this havoc," Robards growled, "if we'd been prepared. Or stopped it all together, if you'd asked me."

Harry looked at the Minister, who was his friend, his boss and his old professor. "I thought…"

At that Draco snorted and turned away.

"There's no time for that now," Neville shot in. He was the new professor in Herbology. "We got to get Harry out of here safe. There's a lot of angry people out there." He turned to Harry. "I think it would be best for you if you didn't show your face in the Wizarding World for some time."

"Hear, hear," Robards muttered.

Minerva McGonagall twisted her mouth into a thin line. "You can use the Floo in my office." She held out her hand and helped Harry up. "What were you thinking, boy? What possessed you to do such a thing? You meant well, no doubt, but it was unwise and foolish. And in your condition, too."

Harry swayed a little and clutched his rounded belly. "Are you sure you don't want Pomfrey to look at you before you leave?" McGonagall's tone was concerned.

Draco grabbed him by the shoulders, his eyes dark of fear. "Harry? Are you in pain? The baby?" The last question was more of a worried whisper.

"We're fine, Draco. A little shaken, that's all."

They all walked to the Headmistress's office, Draco at Harry's side, casting worried glances at him repeatedly. In the doorway of the room Ron paused and held Hermione by the arm. "Take them to ours, 'Mione. I'll find Mum and fetch the kids and I see you at home." He kissed her briefly on the top of her head and left.

"I'm sorry," Harry said to all of them as he stepped up to the fireplace. "I never meant to cause this much trouble."

"You never do, my boy," McGonagall said and a small smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "You never do."

Harry took Hermione's hand and moved to look at Draco. He was shifting nervously and refused to meet Harry's eyes.

"Don't be silly, Malfoy," Hermione stretched out her other hand at him. "Of course, you must come too. Neville, how about you?"

Neville shook his head. "Thanks, but I have students to attend to. There's probably a lot of upset children here, and as I am the Head of Gryffindor…" His cheeks flushed pink, but he shone with pride.

Harry let go of Hermione's hand and hugged him. "See you soon, Nev, and give a Hannah hug from me." And then Hermione uttered her address and they were sucked in by the flames.

In Ron and Hermione's warm familiar kitchen Harry collapsed in a chair and struggled to sort out his thoughts and feelings. It had been an impulsive thing to alter his speech, but he had thought of Draco and his mother and a notion had stuck to him, that they had all suffered, no matter what side you were on. He tried to get his friends to understand, but they just shook their heads at him. Draco had placed himself in the far corner of the room and said nothing, his arms crossed and his steel-grey eyes boring into Harry.

Ron cooked dinner. They became a party of close friends who felt the neeed to gather and talk, Seamus, Dean, Luna, George and Ginny. They all sat around the large kitchen table, drinking wine or beer and casting furtive glances at Harry and Draco. Harry had a coke, Draco nothing. A silence spread after a while, and then suddenly Draco broke it. "You have no idea of what you've done today, have you?"

Harry squirmed a little, uncomfortable with the harshness in those grey eyes, that he'd seen so full of warmth. Now they were ice-cold wells of steel. "You ruined everything," Draco stated.

"I thought about you, I thought that I could make them see the other side."

Draco made a harsh snorting sound. "Do you think I'm some sort of charity case? Do you think that's what I needed?"

He got up and crossed the room and stood directly at Harry's side. The rest of the group was silent, watching, except for the children, Hugo in his mother's lap and Rose in the highchair at the table-end. Hugo was making happy gurgling noises and Rosie was drawing with her magical colour-changing cryons, singing a little tune, both unaware of the tension in the room.

"Did you know," Draco continued, "that last week, when I visited Diagon Alley, I was actually treated like a worthy member of the human race? No one sent curses after me, or crossed the street just to avoid meeting me. Shop-owners nodded politely at me when I made my purchases. What we've been doing these last months had actually worked. Being associated with you worked." He drew his hands over his head, making a few strands loosen from the ponytail. "This stupid sentiment of yours today ruined everything. They'll hate me more than ever after today."

"If it's any comfort, they hate me too." Harry forced a smile and took hold of his hand.

"Don't kid youself, Potter," Draco spat and yanked his hand away. "You're the Golden Boy, and I'm snake-spawn."

"Surely you can see, Malfoy," Ron said, in an attempt to be diplomatic, "that Harry only had the best intentions."

"Best intentions?!" Draco twirled around so fast it must have hurt. "I bet you can find loads of people who's willing to say that my father also had the best intentions. It's ever so convenient to hide behind 'best intentions' when one does something iniquitous."

"You can't compare what Harry did to your father's war-crimes," Seamus said.

"Why not?" Draco snapped back. "Isn't that exactly what Potter said in his speech? That we are all victims, that it was all for a better purpose and that we all suffered."

"I'm not sure Harry meant it like that."

Draco deflated. "It doesn't matter. You got what you wanted from the beginning, Potter. The deal's off. Congratulations on having a child without his Death Eater father around." He turned to Hermione. "Thank you for inviting me, Granger, but I think my stay is overdue." He extracted the wand from his sleeve and nodded to Ron. "Weasley."

"Wait!" Harry scrambled to his feet and made his chair fall back with a loud thud. "What do you mean? That I won't see you again?"

"I wouldn't count on it, Potter." Draco's face was hard as stone, and with a crack he Disapparated.

Harry stood crestfallen.

"He's very sensitive, you know." Luna had her usual dreamy look as she spoke and she waved her wand over her head, creating a flock of fluttering butterflies. Rose clapped her hands and squeaked of joy over the magic. "If you love him, how are you going to win him back again?"

Harry looked at her. "Love?"

Ron slammed the pot of lentil-soup on the table. "Yes, _love._ Don't tell me, Harry James Potter, that you're such a daft prick that you don't know that you're in love with him?"

"Oh," Harry said stupidly and sat down on his up-straightened chair.

"You could say that again, mate." Ron handed him a bowl of the spicy soup.

"And he loves you too," Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "Even Goyle said so." She sniggered a little, but became serious before long. "This was never only about shagging, was it?"

Harry shook his head slowly.

"Your feelings for each other became very obvious today, with your nobel, yet maybe a tad out of line, display of sympathy for the wrong side." Dean gave him a wan smile as he stretched out for the bread.

"So, you all think what I did today was wrong?" Harry swallowed hard.

"Not wrong, exactly." Hermione furrowed her brow, as she usually did when her thoughts tumbled around in that omniscient brain of hers. "But I think your action spoke more of how you feel about him than our opinion of our past enemies."

Luna waved her wand again and a flourish of stars erupted over her head. "I think it's very romantic," she stated.

Harry slumped down at the table, pushed his bowl aside and buried his face in his arms. "Brilliant," he conceded grumpily. "Now what?"

"Now, all you have to do is to fix this bloody mess you've made, apologize to the whole world, including Malfoy, and win him back." George rolled his eyes. "Good luck to you."

"But how?"

Ginny buttered a bread-roll. "Well, we have to make up a fool-proof plan, of course." She grinned at him before she put it in her mouth. "You're gonna need all the help you can get. Count me in."

**Saturday May 3, 2008**

When Harry returned after midnight to his flat later that night, he had to try something. He called out into the dark living room. "Pipsey!"

With a small pop the little elf appeared before him. "You came?" Harry was a bit astonished that it had worked.

"Mr Harry Potter called, sir. Pipsey is free elf and can choose to come to Harry Potter."

"You're free?"

"Yes, sir. We is all free elves at the Manor now. Pipsey even wears clothes." She made a little twirl and Harry saw now that she wore a sun-bleached dress, not a tea-towel as he first had thought.

"That's a very pretty dress, Pipsey," he said and rubbed his tired eyes under his glasses. "Now, I need you to help me with something. I made Draco very upset today."

"Oh, I know, Harry Potter." She wrung her hands and her big ears sloped down in the saddest way. "Master Draco came home and didn't eat his dinner, not even the chocolate fudge Pipsey made. He's locked himself up in his rooms."

Harry felt a strange satisfaction in his gut.

"Master Draco's not even eating his chocolate fudge." The elf yanked her ears in a manne that was so like Dobby that Harry wanted to cry. "Harry Potter made Master Draco very sad. Harry Potter must make good again, for the baby."

"Yes, I want that too. Can I count on your help if I need it?"

"Pipsey will always want to help Harry Potter. Harry Potter was Dobby's friend."

"Thank you. I will find a way and then I call on you, all right?"

"Pipsey will come and help. And Pipsey will bring food for Harry Potter's baby every day." And with another pop, she was gone.

Harry stood and stared out into the empty room where the elf was a second ago. He would try to make this work, he had to. He had to get Draco back in his life again. Not only for the baby, he felt confident enough to care for his child alone, as he once planned it, a long time ago. No, for himself. He needed Draco, craved him, like he never craved anyone before. He must have been in his system for years without Harry noticing. Suddenly everything became so clear.

**Monday May 19, 2008**

"What do you mean, this is your resignation?" Head-Auror Robards face turned a very unbecoming shade of red.

"As I said, it's my resignation. I'm finished as an Auror. As a matter of fact, I'm finished with everything that's politics and good relations and making public appearances. I never liked it and I'm not good at it. You saw the disaster I created at Hogwarts and how much it has taken to get the newspapers and the public opinion back at the Ministry's side again. And I can't honestly say that it won't happen again, 'cause it can. I'm no politician. And I'm fed up with being the Ministry's poster-boy."

Robards hummed and fidgeted with the parchment in his hand. "I know we said some harsh things that day, but there's no need to make such a hasty decision."

"It's not hasty. I've thought about it for years. This job was never what I once thought it would be." Harry sighed and rested against the chair. He was starting to feel heavy now and his back hurt. "I'll be off on parental leave soon anyway, and let's face it, I'm more of a burden for the Department right now as it is."

Robards smiled a crooked smile. "I wouldn't say that. You'll be missed. By me, anyway. By Merlin, you alone managed to catch more Dark wizards than the rest of the Aurors together during these years. But I guess it won't be the same after you become a father. People tend to be more cautious when they have children. "

Gawain Robards crossed his arms and put them at the back of his head and leaned back. "Before all this… Before you told me you were to start a family, I planned on giving you a promotion. To let you set up your own team, pick any Aurors you wanted for a special branch of detecting the foulest criminals, be your own boss. It could still be there after the baby is born, if you want it."

Harry shook his head. "It's not me you want for a job like that. Ron's the strategist among us and a better judge of character than I am. Give it to him."

Robards nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Weasley would do very well as a team-leader. So, what are your plans now? I assume you want to leave right away."

Harry stood. "Yes, I have my desk cleared out this afternoon. And then I have a huge amount of private repair-damage to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I took a lot of the description of Draco's life at the Manor from one of my favourite TV-series, Downton Abbey, but I truly believe that their is much more to Malfoy Manor than a huge park with peacocks. And where does all that food at Hogwarts come from? Do they buy from Muggles? In such large quantities, un-noticed? I don't think so.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason the last part of a story is always the most difficult to write, but here it is, as it turned out, some of it according to plan, some not. Thank you for reading, commenting and cheering me on. You are all truly the best.❤❤❤

**Thursday June 26, 1998**

The dungeon courtroom was packed to the last row and still more people tried to get inside, pushing in, filling the steps and every empty space available. A large group of reporters and photographers were packed in at the front row, bustling and elbowing oneanother to get the best angles. The noise was overwhelming.

Harry wished he could have his Invisibility Cloak on. Now there was nothing to hide him from having his picture taken, again and again. He could leave, he had already given his testimony. He didn't need to be there, yet he stayed. It was the last day of the trials against the Malfoys and today the verdict would fall.

They sat on a row in the back, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Harry was greatful that they were all there, that he could feel their presence by the heat of their bodies, as they were crammed so close together on the visitor's bench.

Harry's mouth was dry and he clenched his hands into fists in his lap when they brought in the accused, three of them. Thankfully, there were no Dementors this time, they were instead accompanied by four Aurors in scarlet uniform-robes, to the middle of the room, where three chairs stood. Three pale slim figures, all blond; father, mother and son.

Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the judge's podium. Harry kept his eyes on his imposing posture. His dark face gave nothing away of his emotions, but his eyes met Harry's and there was warmth there as always.

Shacklebolt tapped his wand on the podium to ask for silence and the room got quiet. "Honorable members of the Council of Magical Law," he started and let his Delphic gaze swipe over the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot. "You have all heard the testimonies towards these accused, both about their crimes before and during the war, and more surprising, testimonies in their favour, and today I will put it to a vote. You will decide if these three people are guilty of crimes of war, crimes against our Wizard society, or if there are, as have been vouched for, attenuating circumstances."

He turned to address the man, who was sitting in the chair closest to him, with chains securing his hands to the arms of the chair. The man's face showed nothing. He held his chin high and his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere far away, as if what was happening in this room didn't concearn him at all. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, known as a Death Eater and acknowledged follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort. I ask the jury to raise their hands if it is believed that his crimes, as presented to this court, has earned him a lifetime sentence in Azkaban."

In the dead silence of the room a mass of hands was held up in the air.

"Narcissa Malfoy née Black, wife of Lucius Malfoy, presumed to sympathise with the Dark Lord Voldemort, but through testimony of Harry James Potter, also found aiding Mr Potter in the final hours of the battle. I ask the jury to raise their hands if they belive she deserves imprisonment in Azkaban."

A scattered few hands were seen in the air, but the majority kept their hands down. "A six months hous-arrest, could that be sufficient?" Shacklebolt asked. Immediatly the rest of the hands shot up.

"Then there is the question of Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Marked as a Death Eater, but according to his own statement, it was forced on him against his will, under threats from the Dark Lord Voldemort of hurting his family. Draco Malfoy was also underage at the time and should therefore not be held responsible for this. Furthermore, according to another testimony given by Harry James Potter, Draco Malfoy saved Mr Potter's life when he refused to identifiy Mr Potter and give him up to the Dark Lord Voldemort. Draco Malfoy surrendered his wand and aided Mr Potter in his escape from Malfoy Manor, where Mr Potter was held prisoner, and according to Mr Potter, thus changed the outcome of the war. If there is anyone in this jury who see fit to send this young man to a sentence in Azkaban, please, raise your hands."

A loud murmur erupted in the dungeon-like hall and Harry dared to lift hid head for the first time and look at the accused. Malfoy's grey eyes searched Harry's the same instant, and in a blink of a second, Harry zooned out and was back at that night of fear and fire. He could feel Malfoy's thin body flattened against his back as they flew out of the Room of Hidden Things, flames of the Fiendfyre licking their boots. His arms that clung to Harry's abdomen trembled and Harry could feel the whiffs of his heavy panting against his sweat-covered neck. Right then, in the briefest of moments, so brief in fact that Harry later questioned if it had happened at all, Malfoy pressed his face at the side of Harry's throat and inhaled. It was over in an instant, and when they took ground in the hall outside, Harry strained himself not to look at him and not to think about it. But he did.

Shacklebolt tapped his wand again and asked for order. A few more hands were raised, and a count had to be administered. Harry held Malfoy's gaze across the courtroom. Shouts and yells were heard all over the place until Shacklebolt's magnified voice was raised over the ruckus. "Six months house-arrest for Draco Malfoy it is then. This court is adjurned." 

It was over, Malfoy was safe. Two Aurors walked up to him and loosened the manacles with their wands, then they did the same with his mother. Another group of Aurors came in, grabbed Lucius Malfoy and pulled him up from his chair. They were in dark-red robes, the colour of the guards at Azkaban.

A woman screamed, shrill and desperate, and Malfoy broke the eye-contact he had held with Harry all this time and put his arms around Narcissa Malfoy, who had collapsed on the floor.

Harry stood frozen on the spot.

"Harry, it's over," Hermione said. "There's no need for you to stay any longer. Let's go home."

"Yeah," Ginny squeezed his arm and tried to capture his eyes, "you don't have to see any of theose people ever again. We can all go home now, Harry."

But Harry felt that his knees didn't support him and fell down on his seat again, and stayed there until the courtroom was empty.

**Thursday June 5, 2008**

Harry glanced sideways and lowered his voice. "Is everything in order?"

"Yes, Mr Harry Potter, sir." The little elf yanked her ears most distressed. "Miss Narcissa is ready. Miss Andromeda is with her now. But Master Draco will not like this, no sir, not at all."

"Trust me, Pipsey," Harry said comfortingly. "He'll be mad at me, not you. And it's for his own good. And the baby," he added with a securing smile. "Now go and see to your mistress. There's a Portkey for the three of you, make sure you don't miss it. Draco and I will come right behind you through the Floo."

The smile that he had on his lips died away as soon as the small figure had disappeared. He was not at all confident that Draco would come with him. This might not work at all.

He drew a reassuring breath and walked the few paces down the corridor to the study Pipsey had assured him Draco was in. He pondered if he should knock but ended up just opening the door. This was an ambush, after all.

"Salazar's mouldy pants..." Draco sputtered from the reclining chair he was sitting in, spilling what Harry imagined was whiskey on his black trousers. "What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?"

"It's your birthday, Draco."

"I know it's my sodding birthday." He stood now. He had his hair loose and it fell to the sides, touching his shoulders. "Who let you in? This place is warded against you."

"I have an accomplice, or several as it seems. I'm here to take you to your birthday-party."

Draco laughed, loud and mean, and he finished his drink in one big gulp. "I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was fourteen. Why in Merlin's name would I do it now?"

Harry closed in on him. He waddled by now but he tried to get as much of his Auror authority in his steps as possible. "Because, I have to point out a few things to you. First of all, your mother is currently on her way out of this house for the first time in, what I recon, a decade."

"What?" Draco's eyes darkened of rage. "Potter, what have you done?"

"Don't worry, she's in good hands." Harry tried to put his hand on his arm for comfort, but Draco shoved it off. "Her sister is with her and Pipsey, who let me in, by the way. They should've arrived at the Burrow by now, where Molly and Arthur will make sure she's properly taken care of."

"Weasley's home?" The furious expression gave way for a more confounded.

"That's where your party is being held. Which brings me to my second point. People care for you, Draco. More than you think. You have no idea of how many there are that has helped me plan this thing. Friends, Draco."

Draco looked away, and Harry raked his hand through his jet-black hair, making it even more tousled. "After the Hogwarts Memorial disaster, I made a few inquiries," Harry said a bit embarrassed. "Alright, there were some angry people there that day, and it got a bit out of hand. But I can assure you, they're a minority. Most of them doesn't see you as a war-criminal or a Death Eater anymore. They weren't ready for what I tried to do that day, that's for sure, but the things they shouted at you were more of a reaction at the time. They didn't really mean it."

Draco pressed his lips into a thin hard line.

"I've been asking around at Diagon, and a lot of people I spoke to there, said that you seemed to feel so much better lately. One even claimed she saw you smile." Harry laughed and Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I meant what I said, though," Harry continued, his voice a little softer now. "I did it for you. I thought about you, all the things you've done, tha man you are today, so far from the boy I thought I knew."

Harry swallowed. "And that's my third point. I realized what a dumb arse I am. I hid so many things, kept myself blindfolded for what I am, what I feel. I lied to myself. I think you know that."

Draco hummed. "It was pretty obvious from the start, from that very first time. You were far too eager to get my mouth on your cock."

"I know." Harry gave a little embarrassed laugh. "I think I fell for you ages ago, back in school. I couldn't keep myself from staring at you, following you, and all the while I kept telling myself it was because you were my enemy."

Draco turned back to Harry again. "What are you saying, Potter?"

"Can't you stop calling me that? We've been together, sort of, for almost a year, and in a couple of very short months we're going to be parents. I'm Harry."

"Alright then… Harry, what are you trying to say?"

"That I very much would like us to be together."

"Just like that. You think it'll be fine, just like that?" There was still a snarl in his voice.

"No, I just wanted you to know. And I want you to come to the bloody party with me. They're all there, you know, waiting for you. Molly and Andromeda has cooked for days, it seems. There's a big buffet table in the garden under the cherry-trees. Luna has decorated, so don't be surprised when you find carrots on rows among the fairy-lights."

"It'll be your friends there, Weasleys and Gryffindors."

"Oh no, I managed to rattle up some old Slytherins too. Goyle will be there. I went back to Hogwarts to properly thank him for saving my arse, and he was in contact with Zabini and Nott. I belive Parkinson and Bulstrode also came."

"Haven't seen most of them in years," Draco muttered.

"Well, they were very excited to see you again." Harry reached out his hand. "So, will you come?"

"Why would I?"

"A lot of people will be very disappointed if you don't, including your mother."

"Shit, my mother." Draco raked his fingers through his hair, getting it more tangled than Harry had ever seen, even in bed. "How on earth did you manage that?"

"It was easy. She said she wanted to when I asked."

"You've been talking to her?"

"She and Andromeda helped me plan. So, will you come?"

"This is bloody blackmail!"

"I know. Will you come?"

"Heavens help me, but I must, mustn't I?"

The Burrows garden was full of people, chairs and sofas scattered around in various inviting groups where they all sat and chatted merrily. The buffet was crammed with all kinds of delicious foods, and decorated, like Harry had anticipated, by Luna with the oddest things among the lights and candles. The sound that greeted them was the sound of happy friends getting together and catching up, laughing. Children ran around, playing and squeaking, and from somewhere further down by the garden shed, where Arthur proudly had set up his Muggle record-player, soft music was heard.

They arrived later than Harry had predicted. "I can't go to a party dressed like this," was what Draco had said when he finally gave in. Harry's, "You're perfectly fine as you are," had no effect. But he did his hair up in a bun instead of his usual formal ponytail, as Harry suggested.

When they walked out of the empty kitchen and out into the garden, Draco hummed and gave Harry a sideways glance. "You've grown bigger. Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine. We both are, except little one here likes to play Quidditch with my bowels from time to time." He gave Draco a nudge when he heard him snigger. "It's not as funny as you seem to think."

Draco stopped in his tracks as he saw a cluster of young women on the other side of the lawn, walking around with drinks in their hands. "Don't tell me you invited _both_ the Greengrass sisters?"

"Pansy did, I believe." Harry glanced their way.

"That woman is pure evil! Astoria is my former fiancée, for Merlin's sake. I'll have to go over and talk to her."

"Not until you've thanked your mother and said hello to Molly and Andromeda. They're over there, all of them." Harry grabbed him by the arm and shoved him forward towards the group of elderly witches sitting nearby the buffet.

"Happy birthday, darling." Mrs Malfoy lifted her head and a wide smile spread over her face. "You're finally here. Was it a nice surprise?"

"Absolutely wonderful, Mother." He kissed her cheek. "Mrs Weasley," he turned to Molly, "I'm overwhelmed by your generous hospitality, thank you so much."

Molly beamed at him and shook her greying red locks. "It's a pleasure, dear. Happy birthday. And you should call me Molly."

Draco nodded. "Aunt Andi, I belive I also have you to thank for this?"

"Oh, don't let him fool you, nephew," Andromeda squeezed a smile. "This was all Harry's doing. We only helped."

"Yes, you've been so distant and quiet lately," her sister added. "And when this nice young man suggested a party, I thought it was just the right thing to cheer you up. I think all of your friends from school are here, except the Crabbe's boy. And that lovely girl Astoria came up and said hallo to me. She's such a beauty, don't you think?"

"Can I get you lovely ladies anything to drink?" Harry chimed in, saving Draco from further embarrassment. When they left, the trio was happily chatting and gossiping as if they've been friends forever, but Harry knew they made an effort to move on, to forgive, to forget.

Harry saw to that Draco had a glass of wine in his hand before he left him to catch up with his old Slytherins, and sat himself down with a heavy sigh. He had three more months to go and he already felt huge. Unexpectedly, and to Harry's delight, Ginny sat down beside him and handed him a plate filled with food. He smiled thankfully at her.

"I thought I'd spare you the trip," she grinned. "You look like you're about to pop any minute."

"Afraid not." Harry tucked in greedily at the mince pie. He was greatful that Ginny seemed to accept things as they were now, and that they could be friends again. "You'll have to see it get worse before it gets better." 

Ginny relaxed at his side and surveyed the surroundings. "That's an odd pairing," she said and put a fork full of pie in her mouth and pointed with it empty towards the couple under the apple tree.

Harry followed her gaze. "You never can tell with Luna, now can you?"

Luna was sitting with Goyle's hand in her lap, drawing lines and patterns with her index-finger at his palm. Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, but he could see her lips move constantly. The look at Goyle's face almost made him laugh. He was totally lost.

"Well, he's certainly not going to disturb her complicated lines of thoughts and call her crazy," Harry continued and turned an affectionate gaze back at Ginny. "When will I see you with such a dumb arse sappy face with someone?"

"Oh, I'll get there eventually. You're not the only handsome bloke in the world, Harry."

"I just want to see you happy, Gin." He felt his throat tighten, as it always did when he was with her.

She patted him on his knee. "I know. I'll get there eventually, you'll see."

The June sun had set and the many-coloured lanterns did their best to spread their lights in the dusk of the summer night. The music had been turned up and the makeshift dancefloor was filled. A song came on. It was a silly catchy thing that had plagued them a couple of years ago. Teddy preformed a crazed dance where he resembled a wolf, or was it a lion, and he clawed the air at Bill and Victoire, who was next to him. Bill threw his head back, as he and Teddy howled to the song's text of moonlight and dancing, his once handsome face straining at the deep scars. They've always had a special connection those two.

Harry shot a glance over at Draco, who sat at the side. He had avoided Harry all evening, but now Harry saw his chance, as Pansy stood and placed a kiss on his cheek before she walked over to Zabini. The whole point of this party was to get Draco to talk to him again, after all.

Harry started to dance to the happy tune and moved in on him. "Come on, Draco, dance with me."

He knew he looked ridiculous as he tried to lure Draco out on the dancefloor, as he wiggled his hips with his big belly bouncing with every move, but if the glimpse of mirth in those grey eyes were anything to go by, Harry had succeeded. He kept beckoning and pulled Draco up from where he was seated. They swayed to the music and Harry felt hopeful.

"Where's your Mum?" he asked.

"Oh, she left hours ago. Totally exhausted, but happy. I don't believe I've seen her this happy in years." Draco put his chin close to Harry's ear. "It doesn't mean I've forgiven you, but thank you for that. Do you think anyone will notice if I slip away too?"

"Things will wrap up soon, anyway. It's a weekday after all. Most of us have school and work tomorrow." Harry bit his lip, but he still asked. "Can I come with you?" Draco only nodded, but Harry felt a great weight lift.

Draco Side-Alonged Harry to the slopes right outside the iron-gates and drew his wand to pull down the wards, and they walked side by side up the gravel path. The pale spectre of a white peacock was seen in a distance and its strange call echoed in the night.

"What are your plans now then? I heard you left the Auror-corps," Draco asked, his eyes held firm ahead. "What will you do?"

"I don't know yet, but before I make any plans I have to start making room for the baby." Harry exhaled loudly and scratched the back of his head. "I can't raise a child in that awful flat. I always thought I'd live in a house when it finally was happening, but things have been a bit... muddled." He grinned at Draco. "I guess I have to go house-hunting, and quick too, if I want to move before the baby's here."

Draco stopped in his tracks. They had come in view of the big old house with its pompous front porch. It stood mostly dark this late in the night, but a few lights flickered invitingly in the windows.

Harry felt a knotted mess in his stomach of all the questions that were still unanswered. "So, have you forgiven me?" he croaked out. "Maybe you even like me a little?"

Draco shook his head. "Of course, I like you. You're Harry Potter. You make my heart beat faster and my magic hum and only you can rile me up like no-one else can. I never wanted anyone else the way I've always wanted you. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you."

"Because I was famous?" Harry kicked a slightly bigger stone on the pathway as they moved on.

"No, I didn't know that then." Draco's voice grew softer. "You had the most amazing green eyes, enlarged by those horrible spectacles, as you stood there in your too big robes, and you looked as if the world was handed to you like a big birthday-cake. I felt an instant pull towards you. If we'd never met after that, I doubt if it would've made such a dent in my memory, but we did. And then I blew everything by trying to act like my father. After that it all got worse in every way."

Draco halted and put his hand on Harry's arm to stop him too. "I've had so many conflicting emotions when it comes to you, and when you turned up, years later, with this absurd request of having my baby, I didn't know what to think. I decided to just go for it, see what would happen, and miraculously, you seemed to like me too." He sighed and ran his hands over his hair. "But honestly, is it enough? We're both stubborn as erumpents, and while you're impulsive, rash and hot, I can mope around like a wounded queen for days, weeks if you're unlucky. You know I can, you've seen it happen."

"I'm in love with you." Harry heard how his voice wavered, but he drew a steadying breath and said with more certainty. "All I ever wanted was a family. It's pretty obvious now why it never worked out with anyone. I want to have that with you. I love you. Even with your flaws."

Draco let go of Harry's arm and with his head held high he looked over the grounds. Harry could see his Adam's apple move on the long neck as he swallowed.

"I love my home," Draco said, a bit husky. "I love the way the ripe barley feels under my hand, the sound of the pheasants in a misty autumn morning and the way all the windows on the west facade turns to gold in the sunset. I could never live anywhere else, and I would like my son to live here and learn to love it too. If you want, you could stay here. There's plenty of room."

"As what? Some permanent house-guest?" Harry winced at the thought, as a cold grip encircled his heart.

"No, you don't understand. I want you to marry me."

"What?"

Draco turned him around and cupped Harry's chin in his hands. "I want to be with you. I want us to be a family too. But that would make it bloody official, the press will have a field-day. Are you sure you're up to that? And then there's this Death Eater-thing. That's a fact that niether of us can forget."

"Marrying me will probably restore your reputation, once and for all," Harry muttered.

Draco pulled away and knotted his brows. "If you think for one minute, Potter, that's why…"

"Moron," Harry cut him off, smiling and kissed him. He slung his arms around his neck and clung as close as he could. The baby was in the way, but it was their baby. Harry deepened the kiss and Draco's lips were hot and demanding. When they finally broke free, Draco held his hand at Harry's neck and pressed his face closer as he whispered, "I love you too, Harry."

**Saturday August 2, 2008**

"Draco, please, I'm a whale."

"Oh, but you're such a handsome whale. And what do you know? Maybe I've developed a fondness for whales, a whale-kink, even."

"You're such an idiot. I told you not to hog all the champagne."

"Humph! It's not as if you could've had some, anyway, and it was a very good brand. Trust Blaise to deal with a thing like that." He continued licking his way along Harry's neck, nibbling at the earlobe. Harry could feel the bulge in his trousers pressed against his backside.

"I'm way too tired," Harry exhaled and pushed him away, and instead enveloped him in a fond embrace. "Whose idea was it, that we should have our wedding cermony three weeks before I'm due to give birth? And why did we agree to it?"

"Hermione can be very persuasive." Draco nuzzled his face in the crook of Harry's neck. "She and that two-faced bint I call my best friend. When did they close ranks and start scheming with oneanother? I bet they're all laughing their faces off right now." 

"Probably," Harry groaned. "My feet hurt and my back hurt, and I think I broke my own reecord on how many times I had to pee today. And instead of a honeymoon, we'll have diapers and sceaming and sleep-deprivation, and all the mess that comes with a new-born."

Draco sighed. "It seems that we did everything the wrong way from the start. Any regrets?"

"Never." Harry stated firmly. "It's me and you, isn't it? It's supposed to be like this. But I can't possibly have sex with you tonight, Draco."

"Would you settle for a foot-massage and I could rub one off on your hip afterwards."

"That sounds brilliant. You got yourself a deal, Malfoy. It is my wedding-night, after all."

"Potter-Malfoy, if you please."

"I thought we agreed on the other way around?"

"Not a chance."

**Friday August 15, 2008**

The boxes were packed and wrapped, and even Harry's old school trunk stood ready to be removed on the floor of Harry's living room. It was an embarrassingly small amount he wanted to bring with him to his new start. Sad as it was, most of his things and furniture were crap and only reminded him of his bleak and lonely life. It felt strange to think that it was only a little more than a year ago he sat here and sweated over the note he had sent to Draco. The note that had changed everything.

Harry thought of the stern snarky man in his black robes at that first meeting in the Muggle café, and the man in his bed this morning, relaxed and giddy, blowing raspberries on Harry's belly, insisting it was time for his son to wake up and kick his daddy. Had it only been a year?

At the Manor, everything was ready for the new little Malfoy. Harry and Draco had decorated a nursery in the study adjacent to Draco's old rooms, instead of moving Narcissa from the master suite. It was better for her to stay where she was used to, and Harry didn't mind the smaller cosier part of the building.

Harry had packed by hand, deprived as he was of his magic, and gone over everything the Muggle way for the first time in approximately two decades. The trunk had been filled with memories and forgotten trinkets, mostly things Harry had thought were gone a long time ago.

A few years after the war, Harry had recieved an owl from Dudley, asking if he wanted his things, as he was selling the house on Privet Drive. Dudley had, rather cleverly, remembered Harry's stories about the Leaky Cauldron right at Kings Cross Station, and steathily walked in there to ask, in a hushed and awkward way, if anyone knew how he could get in contact with a _wizard_. Tom, the barman and Harry had quite the laugh about it afterwards.

Meeting Dudley after all those years had felt strange, but Harry couldn't bring himself to muster up any hostility towards the man. Uncle Vernon had died, and Aunt Petunia wanted to move into something more manageble closer to Dudley. Harry had retieved all the things he'd left behind when he left on his seventeenth birthday, and once again said goodbye to his childhood. He and Dudley had shaken hands when they parted, and that was that.

Harry sat down heavily on the trunk and chuckled quietly. He wondered what any of them would've said if they saw him now. He stretched his aching back and neck. The bending up and down today had been tiresome and he had felt a constant hum of discomfort all afternoon.

The pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning and sweat broke on Harry's forehead as he bent over. He gasped and laboured for air. Panic took its grip of his intestines. No, not again. This couldn't be happening. Another pang of pain. No, no, not so close to the delivery-date. He had carried this baby under his heart for almost nine months, he couldn't bear to lose it now.

Nine months. Delivery-date. Harry clutched his belly and moaned at his stupidity. The baby was coming.

"Hold on, little one," he murmured. "There's no way out for you there. We got to get ourselves to St. Mungo's."

After yet another wave of contractions had subsided, Harry looked around the empty room. The flat was barren except for the boxes and the shelf above the fireplace, where the jar still stood. He came to his feet and managed to grab a pinch before he sunk down on his knees on the floor.

"Draco!" Harry roared into the green flames, but there was no answer. Draco wasn't there, not in any of the rooms with a fire. Harry started hyperventilating and a cold sweat broke all over his body. He cursed his own reclessness for going alone without any other means of communication. He could at least have brought the mobile phone Hermione had given to him as a birthday-present but never used. He moaned, "Draco, where are you? Get your bony pureblood arse over here."

At last he screamed, as blistering knives were stabbed into his pelvis-bone, "PIPSEY!"

**Saturday August 16, 2008**

"Hey, are you awake?" Draco put his sharp nose in the crack of the door before the rest of him followed. The room was dark with only a few pools of soft light in the quiet night. The clean smell of magical antiseptic filled the air.

"Oh, good, you're finally here." Harry heard how weak he sounded.

"I've been out there the whole time," Draco huffed. "This place is absolutely obsolete. The directors of this second-rate hospital will have a lot to answer for when I'm through with them. No wonder so many families prefer to give birth at home."

"That was never an option for us, though," Harry smiled faintly.

"Still, keeping the father out of the surgery-room is totally medieval," Draco grunted.

"The other father," Harry mused. 

"How are you feeling? Are you all right?" Draco's brows knotted into what Harry had come to recognize as his 'worried-frown'.

"A bit bruised and battered, but don't worry. I've had worse, I guess." Harry shifted a little on the bed. "Who else is out there?"

"All of them, it seems," Draco said as he came closer. "Andromeda brought Mum, there's a whole hoard of Weasleys, and Ron and Hermione, of course."

"Did Pipsey stay?"

"She's sitting there, yanking her ears, anxious to get back to her kitchen."

"She mustn't go before I see her." Harry shifted in the bed again, his body was sore all over. "But I wanted to see you first."

Draco snorted. "I would hope so."

"There is something, don't be alarmed, but there's something that I've got to tell you. I know how much you wanted an heir, someone to carry on the long line of Malfoys."

"Of course, that was the whole point."

"It might not be altogether as you thought it'd be, though." Harry bit his lip, so not to reveal the smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Draco looked absolutely crestfallen. "The Healers haven't said anything to me. What's wrong with him? Tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, exactly…"

Harry moved again and sat up a bit higher, so that the bundle at his far side came up on his arm. It had the most perfect rosiest baby face with black tufts of hair sticking up and a pink bud for a mouth, sleeping, still unawear of the world.

"Tell me what's wrong with him, Potter!" Draco demanded.

Harry couldn't help letting the smile free now and his green eyes sparkled as they met Draco's worried grey. "It seems that we have to do this all again, then. Maybe more than once. I'm sorry about that." Harry faked a sigh, but the mischief stayed in his eyes. He beamed. "Draco Malfoy, may I introduce you to your daughter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. I lived with this story so long now that it feels a little sad that I finally finished it. I hope you enjoyed it to the end.  
> And by the way, the happy silly song they all dance to at Draco's birthdayparty is, in my mind, Dancing in the Moonlight by Toploader. Listen to it, it sure keeps me in a good mood.


End file.
